


Foxes and Geese

by garafthel (sister_wolf)



Series: The Fox's Tale [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, F/M, Female Bilbo, Female Dori (Tolkien), Female Nori (Tolkien), Female Ori (Tolkien), Kíli/Nori (one-sided) - Freeform, M/M, Nori/OFC (past) - Freeform, Rough Sex, Sisters Ri, Size Kink, Women Being Awesome, original characters all over the place, wanders far far away from canon tbh, waves cheerfully at canon as it wanders past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 50
Words: 150,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/pseuds/garafthel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nori is the thieving black sheep of the Sisters Ri. Dwalin is the honest guardsman who falls for a woman who's not at all what she seems. Throw in an accidental marriage, a king-in-exile (and his sister), and a treasure map to a lost Dwarven kingdom, and stir.</p><p>This started out as a simple tale of Nori/Dwalin shenanigans in Ered Luin and grew unexpectedly into an adventure that parallels the Quest for Erebor, though several steps to the left. It also sort of waves cheerfully at canon as it wanders on by, let's put it that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Dwalin, son of Fundin, met Nori, daughter of Kori, she completely fooled him.

He'd been on patrol in the great market of Ered Luin, watching for pickpockets and thieves. Almost insultingly easy duty for a veteran warrior like Dwalin, but he'd been new to the City Watch then and hadn't yet had a chance to prove himself.

The market was always crowded with vendors and customers, with stalls selling everything from fresh-made loaves of bread, to musical instruments, to precious gems. Dwalin moved through the crowd easily despite his bulk, people automatically giving way to a dwarf wearing the sigil of the Watch on his armor.

There was a sudden commotion and shouts of "Thief!" in the next aisle. Dwalin rounded the corner and sized up the situation. A fabric merchant, shouting and shaking his fist. "What's going on?" Dwalin demanded.

"Guardsman! A thief just stole three bolts of my finest sapphire silk," the merchant said. "A little red-headed boy, young and beardless. He ran down the Washer Way towards Lowtown just a minute ago. Go, you still might catch him!"

Dwalin ran in the direction the merchant had indicated. There was no time to waste. If the thief reached Lowtown before Dwalin, there was no way he'd catch the thief in that warren of crooked streets.

Washer Way was a horrible place to try to chase someone. Lines of laundry were strung across the street, often low enough that a tall dwarf like Dwalin had to duck or risk being slapped in the face by someone's wet sheets. Smart move on the part of the thief, Dwalin admitted grudgingly.

But due to his longer legs, Dwalin could run surprisingly quickly for a dwarf of his size. He started to gain on the thief, a slight figure in a long, tattered brown coat. The thief's hair was styled in a strange, three-peaked hairstyle.

A block ahead, the thief disappeared around a corner into Lowtown and Dwalin cursed. He put on a final burst of speed and turned the corner, only to find that the thief had apparently vanished.

Dwalin looked around, panting. The street split five ways at an uneven intersection, and there was no indication of which direction the thief might have run. 

There was a woman sitting on a low balcony nearby, combing her fingers through the length of her long hair pulled forward over her shoulder. She wore a veil covering her face below the eyes in the Eastern fashion, matching the blue of her loose gown.

"Pardon me, my lady," Dwalin said, feeling awkward. He wasn't sure if he was even allowed to talk to an Eastern woman without first asking for her permission through her harem of husbands. (The dwarves of the far eastern mountains had dealt with the scarcity of dwarven women by allowing them to take multiple husbands. Dwalin had heard that a single woman could have a dozen husbands, if she chose! And no males but their husbands were allowed to admire the beauty of their faces.)

"Yes? May I assist you in some manner, master guardsman?" she asked, still combing through her hair. Even her accent was beautiful. 

Dwalin couldn't help but notice that her hair was gorgeous--long and slightly wavy, and a lustrous red-brown. He'd always had a weakness for redheads. 

Dwalin fought the urge to cough and shuffle like a bashful schoolboy. "Did you see a young lad dressed in brown go running through here a moment ago?"

"I did, in fact. He went that way," she said, pointing with one long, delicate hand.

"Thank you, my lady," Dwalin said with a bow that was slightly lower than necessary.

She nodded, the corners of her eyes crinkling as if she smiled behind her veil, and said, "Best of luck in your chase, master guardsman."

Dwalin was three blocks down the road when it struck him--when she'd pointed out the direction, the silk draped over her arm had shifted a little and he'd seen dark fabric underneath. And she'd been draped in blue silk. Sapphire blue silk.

Cursing, Dwalin ran back to the intersection where he'd seen the "Eastern woman." Of course, she--or rather, he--was long gone.

Fooled by long red hair and a few bolts of stolen silk. Mahal's hammers, he was an idiot. Dwalin swore to himself at that moment that he'd never be fooled by the red-haired thief again.

But that, of course, was only the first time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then there was sudden angst. Warning for one of those horrible family arguments that always leave everyone involved feeling emotionally wrung out and awful? It'll get fluffy again after this, I swear.

"And then what?" Ori asked eagerly. She was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, leaning forward with her elbows on the table and her braids trailing over her shoulders.

Leaning back in the other kitchen chair so that it creaked as it balanced on two legs, Nori grinned at her little sister. "And then, I popped round the corner and wrapped the silk around me like an Eastern lady! Veils and all."

Ori's eyes widened. "But did that fool the guardsman?"

"It did indeed. He started stammering and blushing like I was some grand lady and asked me if I'd seen a young lad run by," Nori snickered. She kept a weather eye on Dori, whose face was looking increasingly grim as she bustled around the kitchen.

"No!" Ori breathed.

"Yes indeed. And then I pointed out the direction the young lad had run in, waited for him to take the bait, and went right up the railings to the roof, just like that." Nori sat up and tapped Ori on the tip of her nose. Ori made a face and giggled.

Dori slammed the kettle down on the stove. "And then you went and fenced your stolen goods?"

Nori eyed her older sister. Yeah, it was time for a classic Ri-style argument. She could see Dori's face turning red with suppressed rage. "Ori, sweet," Nori said, "Why don't you go upstairs and practice your scrivening for a while, hmm? Dori and me need to have a little talk."

Ori looked back and forth between her older sisters, not fooled. She was a smart little thing. "Fine. Try not to break anything this time," she snapped. They listened to Ori's footsteps pounding up the stairs and then the slamming of her bedroom door. 

Nori sighed. "All right, Dori, out with it." She remained seated, trying to look relaxed in the hopes of keeping the argument from escalating from angry words to broken crockery this time.

Dori slammed the kettle down again for good measure and then gave up on abusing the cookware, pacing back and forth in the small kitchen. "It's bad enough that you're a thief. But to tell our little sister funny stories about you stealing other people's belongings! It's not right."

Nori shrugged. "It was a funny story, what do you want?"

"For you not to be a thief!" Dori yelled. She braced her hands on the edge of the table, breathing roughly.

Nori grabbed the coin purse from her belt and threw it onto the table. Silver coins spilled out as it landed. "You know what this is? This is money enough to buy food for the next month and new shoes for Ori."

"Stolen money," Dori said.

"Yeah, well, it's money that we need, and you know that."

Dori looked at the coins, her expression terrible. "Can't you just--work a regular job? Go straight?"

"Sure, that'll be easy, with no apprenticeship and no father. Hey, I hear the whores have their own guild these days." Nori gave up on trying to look relaxed, shoving her chair away as she stood up.

Dori flinched, as she always did when reminded that she was the only one of the sisters to be born in wedlock. Their mother had been married to Dori's father, before the dragon came and destroyed everything. Her beloved husband dead, Kori had sunk into depression as their family fell into poverty. Nori and Ori shared a father, but he'd been a useless bastard who'd slunk in and out of their mother's life several times, like a tenacious case of the itch. Since their mother's death, they hadn't seen hide nor hair of him. He hadn't even come to the funeral.

Sitting down heavily in the other chair and slumping forward with her elbows on the table, Dori stared down at the coins silently.

"I'm sorry," Nori offered, when the silence got too awful.

"Just, please," Dori said hoarsely. "Please don't make Ori think that what you're doing is all right. She can have a future. She's doing wonderfully with her apprenticeship, her master says she's the best scribe he's seen in decades. Please don't ruin that for her."

"I would never." Nori sat down on the table next to Dori's elbow. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt Ori." Dori slumped sideways, resting her head against Nori's hip. Nori stroked a hand over Dori's braids.

"I know," Dori mumbled.

"Listen," Nori said gently, "I've got a... thing coming up. I don't know how often I'll be able to contact you for a while."

"A con job?" Dori asked. Nori could hear the frown in her voice.

"Yeah, it's a long con. I'll be in town and you might even see me, but don't acknowledge me at all. I'm going to be someone else for a while, okay? Tell Ori. I'll tell her too, but she listens to you better."

Dori took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. Eyes searching Nori's face, she asked, "Is it dangerous?"

Nori smiled at her big sister and lied through her teeth. "No, love, don't worry. It's a cake walk."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've gotta warn you, I'm pretty sure this is just going to become even more ridiculous from here on out.

"Jewel of Erebor!" the old thief Grimr cried as Nori walked through the door to their meeting place. The warehouse had long been abandoned by the time Grimr found it and there had never been any signs of an owner. It was about as secure a meeting spot as one could hope for in Lowtown.

Nori laughed and curtseyed deeply. The effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact that she was dressed like a boy, as she always was when on the street. "You old flatterer."

"Ah, you wound me. I'm still young enough for a lass like you," Grimr winked. In truth, he was only middle-aged for a dwarf, but the life expectancy for a thief tended to be somewhat shorter than average. The fact that Grimr had reached an age where his black hair had turned mostly silver was proof of his skill and canniness.

Nori rolled her eyes but took no offense. Grimr's flirting was utterly harmless. "Where is our third partner?" she asked, looking around the room.

"He'll be here in awhile. I thought we'd do well with a little extra time to go over the role," Grimr said.

"I'm well enough practiced by now!" Nori said, pacing. "Mahal's hammers, we practice any more and I'll start to believe I really _am_ her."

Grimr nodded. "And that is precisely what you need to do. Believe the character, believe all of your lies, and no one will suspect that you are anything else. Now, who are you?"

"Lady Nezhka--" Nori started.

"In character," Grimr corrected.

Nori closed her eyes and took a deep breath, correcting her posture to stand straight and with her shoulders pulled back out of their habitual defensive hunch. When she met Grimr's eyes, it was with the confident gaze of a woman who is ruler of all she surveys. "I am Lady Nezhka of the Orocarni," she said in a flawless Eastern accent. "May I introduce my husbands, Grigori and Iakun."

Grimr nodded. "And what is your business in Ered Luin?"

Nori's eyes grew sorrowful. "My third husband, may Mahal rest his soul, was a great seeker of the treasures of the past. He was obsessed with finding the ancient mithril mines of Hrathi Stonefist in the White Mountains. Before he left on what would turn out to be his last expedition, he told me that he was convinced that he would find evidence of their location."

"And did he?"

Nori leaned forward and lowered her voice, staring deep into Grimr's eyes. "My beloved husband lost his life seeking this knowledge. But yes, yes I do believe that he did at the end find the proof he sought." 

The old thief laughed and clapped his hands. "Very nice! I can tell that you've been practicing."

Nori coughed uncomfortably. "About that."

Grimr stopped smiling. "Why do I have the feeling I'm about to become very unhappy?"

"Well, now, there were extenuating circumstances, and I still feel that it was the best way for me to get out of that situation, considering that the guardsman was gaining on me--"

"Nori," Grimr snapped. "Tell me what you've done."

"I was being chased by a guardsman after I stole some silk and I couldn't lose him so I wrapped myself up in the silk and pretended I was an Eastern lady," Nori said in a rush.

"I see," Grimr said neutrally. "And did you give the guardsman a name?"

"No, of course not. He barely got a look at me and my face was covered the whole time," Nori said. "I was going to dye my hair dark for this anyway, and I'll just speak with a lower voice than my normal. Besides, it was one market guardsman. What's the chance that I'll ever encounter him as Lady Nezhka?"

Grimr frowned, but in the end even he had to concede the point.

***

"You've got to be joking," Dwalin said.

The Captain frowned at him. "This is no joke, Guardsman Dwalin. Lady Nezhka is an honored guest and a valuable trading partner. The request for a bodyguard came from very high up in the chain of command."

"Babysitting duty, really?" Dwalin tried to keep from whining. He wasn't sure how successful he was in that.

"Those are your orders, guardsman." The Captain pulled a scroll out of the mess of papers on his desk and glanced at it quickly. "Now, it says here that you were of noble birth in Erebor. You were trained in proper court etiquette, correct?"

Grinding his teeth, Dwalin nodded.

"Excellent. You will escort Lady Nezhka to court functions, including feasts and dances." The Captain steepled his hands and looked at Dwalin with an evaluating look. "You can dance the Thurkhkhai, right?"

Mahal had cursed him for something he'd done wrong in a previous life, Dwalin was sure of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written on a giant sugar high. That's my only excuse.

Their host was a minor lord with a lavish spending habit, which Nori certainly appreciated. Half a dozen servants had delivered a buffet of cheese, spiced meat, and wine to the large guest apartment that they had been assigned in a building Lord Skagi owned. Nori had been grazing off the buffet along with Grimr and the young dwarf he'd brought in on the job, whose real name Nori had promptly forgotten in favor of simply thinking of him by his alias, Iakun.

There was a quiet knock at the door to the guest quarters. A servant opened the door and announced, "Guardsman Dwalin arriving for bodyguard duty, my lady."

Nori glanced up from the buffet and froze in the act of reaching for another piece of cheese as she registered exactly who was standing in the doorway. The servant bowed briefly and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"You," the big guardsman from the market breathed, practically vibrating with fury.

Despite an inner chorus of _oh shit oh shit he's going to kill me_ , Nori stayed in character, raising one imperious eyebrow and asking, "Me?"

"You're the thief from the market!" The guardsman took three long steps in Nori's direction and loomed angrily over her.

Nori caught sight of Grimr tensing for an attack out of the corner of her eye and quickly gestured for him to stand down. She was pretty sure she could defuse the situation without violence. It'd be a shame to get blood all over the pretty guest apartment, not to mention it would completely ruin their cover. At least none of the servants were still around to witness this.

"I believe that you will find that you are mistaken," Nori drawled. "I am Lady Nezhka of the Orocarni. I assume that you are the warrior assigned to be my personal servant? I mean bodyguard, pardon me. Westron is so imprecise."

"I can prove it," he snarled. "You're no lady--you're not even a woman!" 

With that, he reached out with both hands and grabbed Nori's relatively small, but certainly not non-existent breasts.

There was a horrified pause.

"You're..." the guardsman trailed off, blinking.

"A woman?" Nori asked, raising both eyebrows and giving his hands a significant look.

The guardsman's face flushed red as he hurriedly dropped his hands.

Sensing an advantage, Nori immediately went on the attack. "You dare to touch a lady of the Orocarni! I could have you put to death for this insult, or demand that your hands be severed from your wrists!"

"Now, see here--" the guardsman blustered.

"Silence!" Nori snapped. She jabbed the guardsman in the chest with one finger. "You have taken liberties which are only allowed to my husbands."

"Shall I kill him for you, my jewel of the Red Mountains?" Grimr asked with his hand on his sword. Nori knew that he was asking the question both in character, as Lady Nezhka's husband, and in earnest, as the ringleader of their con job.

The spark of mischief in Nori's spirit (which was doubtless eventually going to get her killed) suggested a most amusing solution to the current situation. Because when push came to shove, she really didn't want to order the guardsman killed. Nori was a thief and a grifter, not a killer. Not unless she had no choice in the matter.

"What is your name, guardsman?" Nori asked. 

"Dwalin, son of Fundin," he growled.

Nori narrowed her eyes, giving the guardsman a long, considering look. For the first time, she looked at him not as a threat but as a man, and couldn't help but notice that he was extremely attractive, if one's tastes ran toward huge, muscular, battle-scarred warriors. Which, unfortunately, was exactly Nori's type. She shoved that awkward realization out of her conscious mind. Any attraction to the guardsman would be a distraction that she could not afford.

"Dwalin, son of Fundin," Nori said in her most imperious tone, "I, Lady Nezhka du Orocarni, offer you the choice of death or betrothal."

"What?" he said blankly.

"Do you deny that you have put your hands on me and offered me grievous insult?" Nori made a show of waiting for him to respond. "No? Then by the law of my people, you are given the choice. Execution or marriage."

"You have got to be joking," Dwalin said.

Nori smiled like a wolf. "Oh, I think you'll find that I'm not. My betrothed."

***

This had really not been Dwalin's week.


	5. Chapter 5

Of course that wasn't the end of it. Dwalin, son of Fundin, was not going to lie down and accept that through no fault of his own, he was now betrothed to some strange Eastern woman.

Lady Nezhka had simply nodded and spread out her hands, saying, "Of course we must visit your Courts of Law, if that is what is required to make the betrothal official."

Dwalin glowered at her silently. He'd been _so sure_ that she was the thief from the market! But the thief had been a boy, and clearly Lady Nezhka was a woman. He'd felt the proof of that for himself only half an hour ago. Dwalin felt himself flushing red as he remembered the weight of her breasts in his hands.

There were other differences that he hadn't noticed in the first moments of blinding fury when he'd walked through the door and seen what he thought was the thief standing there. Her hair was a much darker auburn, almost black, and her voice was much huskier than the thief's. He couldn't remember what color the thief's eyes had been, but Lady Nezhka's eyes were a clear, unmistakable green.

Accompanied by her two husbands, an older dwarf with long black hair turning to silver and a younger dwarf with dull mouse-brown hair and spots, Lady Nezhka followed at a leisurely pace as Dwalin stormed into the main entryway of the Hall of Laws.

Fortunately, Balin had been able to see them without delay. Dwalin had to admit that was an advantage to being the brother of a law scribe. 

Balin heard their case in a small courtroom with only a few benches at the back for observers. Petitioners stood before a raised dais on which the law scribe sat at a massive desk. There were no observers for this case, of course. The only other dwarves in the room were a guard standing watchfully to the side in case of trouble and a junior scribe perched at a small desk at the back of the dais, taking notes.

Balin had patiently heard Lady Nezhka's testimony and then asked Dwalin for his side of the story. Dwalin laid out his side of the case--it had been an honest mistake! He hadn't intentionally done dishonor to the lady!--and Balin nodded, turning his keen gaze on Lady Nezhka.

"I must consult the Books of Law for any prior case that may bear precedent. Lady Nezhka, you and your husbands may wait in an antechamber. Dwalin son of Fundin, please accompany the guard to a waiting room."

Following the guard to a waiting room, Dwalin told himself not to worry. He was sure that Balin would find in his favor. The whole thing was ridiculous.

***

Grimr ordered Iakun to watch the door when they reached the antechamber. Closing the door behind him, Grimr stood leaning against it for a moment with a thoughtful frown.

Nori threw herself onto a low couch, leaning her head back against the cushion. "All right, Grimr, out with it. I know you've been itching to yell at me since this whole mess began."

And just when she'd thought the mess couldn't get worse, it turned out that the law scribe they were to see was the one her little sister was apprenticed to. Nori's stomach had sunk the moment she saw Ori perched at a desk behind the scribe, taking notes. Nori wasn't sure if Ori had recognized her, with her face covered in a veil and her hair dyed dark. Dear Mahal, she hoped not.

Grimr, to her surprise, did not immediately take her to task. He tucked his hands behind his back and started pacing the room, saying, "This may not be the disaster I thought at first. You don't know who they are, do you? Dwalin, son of Fundin, is Thorin Oakenshield's kinsman and close friend. Balin the law scribe is Dwalin's brother and Thorin's trusted advisor."

"So?" she shrugged. To Dori's great disappointment, Nori could not care less about the so-called "King-in-Exile." King of what, exactly? A dragon-infested ruin and a people scattered to the wind. He sure as hell wasn't Nori's king.

"So, this gives us an in with Thorin Oakenshield. The King-in-Exile will want the lost mithril mines even more than our host does. He'll start a bidding war," Grimr said, rubbing his hands together.

"You really think so?" Nori asked dubiously.

"My dear, I am certain of it. If we play this right, we are going to be filthy, stinking rich!" Grimr pulled Nori up from the couch and twirled her around the room, laughing.

They sobered immediately when they heard a knock at the door. Iakun poked his head around the door and said, "My lady, the law scribe's assistant is here to see you."

Shit. Ori.

Nori nodded, trying to look calm. "Let her in. My husband, could you excuse us for a moment?"

Grimr nodded, leaving the room as Ori entered.

Nori smoothed her hands over her robe. Pitching her voice low, she asked, "Yes, apprentice? Do you have a message for me from your master?"

Ori crossed her arms over her thin chest and gave Nori her most unimpressed look. "Lady Nezhka? Really, sister?"

Nori sighed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, I read a lot of terrible romance novels at a very impressionable age.

"Ori, you can't say anything to anyone about this," Nori said. She'd locked the door of the room from the inside before taking off her facial veil and sitting down with Ori on the sofa furthest from the door.

Sitting on the other end of the sofa, Ori sniffed disapprovingly. She looked alarmingly like a miniature, ginger-haired Dori when she did that. "You're running a scam, aren't you."

Nori leaned forward, saying urgently, "Listen to me, Ori. You really can't tell anyone. There are some very dangerous people who will be very angry if they find out what I'm doing here." She didn't know that for sure, since Grimr had refused to say where he'd found the map, but Nori figured it was a safe assumption.

"Are you in danger right now?" Ori asked.

"Not really," Nori lied. Unconvincingly, if Ori's face was any indication. "Anyway, I'll be careful."

"I don't like this," Ori said. She uncrossed her arms and started chewing absently on the end of a braid.

Nori smiled reassuringly. "I know, sweetie. It'll be fine. I'll tell you all about it after the scam is done and we'll have a good laugh." 

"Dori's not going to like the fact that you got engaged without telling her." Ori looked smug about that, the little brat.

"Dori's not going to find out." Nori rolled her eyes. "And even if Balin rules that we're married, it's not legal. I'm not really from the Orocarni." 

"Oh, that's what I was supposed to tell you," Ori said, her eyes widening. "Master Balin is ready to give his judgment."

***

Dwalin had given up on telling anyone that they must be joking. He simply stared wordlessly at his brother. It was possible that Dwalin was growling a little.

"Yes, and this is why I told you in private, because I knew you'd be like this," Balin said.

"Well, excuse me for being a little angry that my freedom just got taken away from me." Dwalin would very much prefer to be killing orcs right now.

"It's not that bad," Balin said. "By the law of Ered Luin, you can't be married against your will, so it's not a marriage per se. It's more like you're engaged to Lady Nezhka for a while. It's a formality, really."

Dwalin gave his brother a "cut the bullshit" glare. "How long is a while?"

Balin coughed. "Well, the legal precedent for this case..." He shook his head, sighing. "You don't care about all the details, I know. The answer is, ten years."

" _Ten years_?" Killing. Orcs. Right now.

"I understand that there were extenuating circumstances, but the legal precedent is clear." Balin folded his hands, looking at his brother with kind eyes. "It's not that bad. Lady Nezhka is young, appears to be attractive from what I can tell around the veil, and from what I've heard, she is a wealthy woman of some power and influence. You could do worse, Dwalin."

"Worse than being married against my will?"

"You're not actually married, not unless you consummate the marriage," Balin reassured him. "The engagement will be dissolved after ten years, unless the lady releases you from your oath earlier, or unless you and the lady engage in... marital relations."

"I really don't think that's going to be an issue," Dwalin growled.

"Well, don't dismiss it out of hand," Balin sighed. "You're not getting any younger or better looking."

So. Many. Orcs.

***

Nori stopped Dwalin with a hand on his arm as they exited the courtroom. "Master guardsman, a moment if you please."

"My lady," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he loomed over her. 

"I just wanted to say..." Nori faltered for a moment, then reminded herself that she was Lady Nezhka, and Lady Nezhka did not falter or stutter. "I wanted to reassure you that I will not require you to leave your home or your family. I will release you from your oath before we depart for the Orocarni." There, maybe now he'd stop looking like he wanted to murder her slowly.

"Do you doubt my word?" Dwalin demanded, somehow looming over her even more.

"No..." Nori said slowly, confused.

Dwalin practically snarled, "I have given my word to serve you for the next ten years and I will discharge this debt, on my honor."

All right, well, that could be a little awkward, considering. Nori tried to imagine Dwalin serving her in Lowtown. He could mop the floor and do the dishes! He could loom over her menacingly and frighten away all of her potential marks! Dear Mahal, no. 

Fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose, Nori told him, "I do not question your honor, Dwalin, son of Fundin. Why don't you take this evening and tomorrow to make whatever arrangements you need? Meet us at the guest apartment tomorrow at sundown. I'll need you to escort me to a feast."

Dwalin nodded sharply, thumped his chest with one fist in acknowledgment, and stomped away. Nori stared after him.

Grimr coughed and muttered, "Well, that's a fine kettle of fish you've landed in, my dear."

"Shut it," Nori groaned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which a few more familiar faces appear.

What Dwalin remembered of that night, in bullet points:

1) Telling Thorin, his king and his best friend since childhood, about the horrible situation he'd ended up in.

2) Punching his king in the face when he wouldn't stop laughing at Dwalin's misfortune.

3) Dis making them apologize to each other and then leading a round of increasingly obscene toasts to Dwalin's last night as a bachelor.

4) Thorin and Dis giggling like children as they demonstrated the dances that Dwalin might need to know for the feast the next night.

5) The three of them rocking back and forth with their arms around each other's shoulders as they sang traditional Dwarven drinking songs at the top of their lungs.

After that it all got a little hazy.

It was a good night.

***

The next morning, Nori and Grimr met with their host and potential mark. Lord Skagi was... well, oily was the best description for it, Nori felt. Like touching him would net you a handful of sliminess. But he had money and said he was considering funding their supposed expedition to find the lost mithril mines, so Nori put up with his wandering eyes and too-friendly hands.

After all, if he had his eyes on her breasts, he probably wouldn't be paying as much attention to the holes in their story.

Nori and Grimr left Lord Skagi's palatial private meeting room in silence. Nori waited until they were back in the guest apartment with Iakun watching the door to ask Grimr, "Well?"

He looked cautiously pleased. "I think we've got him baited. We just need something to get the hook set."

"And I assume you have a suggestion for that?"

Grimr nodded. "My sources say that Thorin Oakenshield is going to be in attendance at tonight's feast. It's the perfect opportunity for you to introduce yourself and get him interested in the mines."

"Right," Nori said, nibbling on a piece of cheese from the never-empty buffet. "Because a penniless King-in-Exile will have a lot of money to throw away on a fool's quest?"

"Oh, no," Grimr said. "It's not Thorin Oakenshield's money we're after. It's the money of the old Ereborean farts who still support his claims to rulership. I hear that Oin and Gloin, sons of Groin, are his chief money men. They're going to be a bit harder to sell on this."

Grimr smiled, his eyes twinkling. "But I have faith, my jewel, that you can talk a man into anything, given time."

"Charmer," Nori said, smiling despite herself.

***

Around the same time that Nori was dealing with Lord Skagi's wandering eyes, Dwalin woke up feeling like the feet of a thousand dancing oliphaunts were thumping through his head.

There were two points of sharp pain on his chest. Dwalin blinked his eyes open slowly to find Kili's face filling his frame of vision. Dwalin recoiled, swearing.

"See, Fili, I told you he was waking up."

"Because you're poking me with the sharpest elbows known to dwarvenkind," Dwalin groaned, pushing at Kili's arms. "Gerroff!"

Kili ducked away, laughing. Dwalin sat up slowly, cradling his head in his hands. "Mahal's hammers..." He must have fallen asleep in front of the hearth at the house that Dis, Thorin, and the boys shared. At some point during the night, someone had thrown a wool blanket over him.

"Hair of the dog?" Fili asked, offering a full pint of ale. Dwalin grabbed it with a grateful noise and downed it in three gulps.

"So, I hear that you're to be congratulated," Kili said.

"We couldn't really avoid hearing it," Fili said. "Considering the volume at which Mother and Uncle Thorin were toasting your health."

Kili coughed. "Among other things."

"I hear you have a mighty war hammer," Fili said with a straight face.

Dwalin groaned. He really wasn't awake enough to deal with the two of them. "This arrangement is nothing to be congratulated about, believe me."

"Well?" Kili asked expectantly. "Is she attractive? Does she have nice, y'know." He made a gesture that Dwalin could only interpret as: he started out indicating breasts, panicked that his mother might be looking, and ended up indicating hair and/or antlers.

"I bet she's got ten other husbands back in the Red Mountains," Fili said. Dwalin wasn't sure by his tone if that was a drawback or a selling point.

"Boys!" Dis yelled from the kitchen. "Leave Dwalin alone!"

The boys (almost adults now, and when the hell had that happened?) traded looks and wandered away, laughing.

"Dis, you will have my love forever if some of that bacon is for me," Dwalin said, poking his head around the doorjamb of the kitchen.

"Well, now," she laughed, "I don't think those Easterners go for more than one woman to a man."

"Ah, don't remind me." Dwalin slumped at the table.

Once they'd eaten their fill of bacon and oatcakes, Dis leveled him with a calm, piercing look. "Tell me, Dwalin. Is it really that bad?"

"Well, I'm married--all right, _engaged_ \--to a woman I'd never met before yesterday, and tonight I have to take her to a feast and probably make a fool of myself dancing. So yes, I'd say it is that bad."

"Balin says she's young, pretty, and wealthy," Dis said. She sipped tea out of a misshapen mug that Dwalin knew was the result of a much younger Kili's ill-fated attempt at pottery. It was ugly as sin and would tip over if not put down carefully, and it was her favorite mug.

"Balin is a gossipy busy-body." Dwalin sighed, admitting, "She said she'd release me from my oath before she returns to the Red Mountains."

"That's a good thing, right?" Dis asked. "I mean, her business here can't possibly take ten years. So you'll be free of your oath early with a clear conscience."

"I guess," Dwalin grumbled, scraping the last bits of oatcake off his plate.

"What is her business here, anyway?"

Dwalin shrugged. "Something about mining rights. I don't remember. It didn't seem important."

"Dwalin!" Dis scolded. "Well, I'll be there at the feast tonight, so I can find out all the details that you _men_ think are unimportant." She tutted, rolling her eyes.

Dis could be terrifying when she went on the hunt for information. Dwalin smirked, picturing her interrogating Lady Nezhka.

Well, maybe the evening wouldn't be so awful after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which actual plot starts happening!

Lady Nezhka took one look at Dwalin and said, "No, no, that outfit simply will not do."

Dwalin looked down at himself. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Well, it's perfectly acceptable for killing orcs or standing guard duty, but you're not doing either tonight. You're accompanying me to a feast and you _will_ look presentable." She turned to her younger, spotty husband, ordering him, "Iakun, ask one of Lord Skagi's servants to send for a tailor immediately. Have him bring a selection of dark green fabrics. No patterns unless it's a subtle brocade."

She was wearing a dark green gown tonight, Dwalin noticed. He didn't tend to notice fripperies, but now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure she'd been wearing green yesterday too. It brought out the color of her eyes, he supposed, and felt a little annoyed with himself for even noticing her eyes. But considering that her whole face below the eyes was covered by a veil, he supposed it was hard not to pay attention to them.

Dwalin stood grimly through having his measurements taken by a nervous-looking tailor. It was no worse than being measured for armor, though the end result would be quite a bit less useful.

In what seemed an almost supernaturally short amount of time, the tailor and his assistants created a long coat out of a heavy fabric with dark green designs on a black background. Lady Nezhka's older, grey-haired husband (Dwalin figured he'd have to learn their names eventually, but for now he was feeling stubborn) provided a long belt made of steel links that fit reasonably well. After a brief stand-off, Dwalin reluctantly agreed to leave the knuckledusters behind. 

There was no way he was leaving Grasper and Keeper behind, though. He half-expected a fight over that, but she didn't make any objection when he hooked them onto his belt.

Ugh, he hated being dressed like a merchant. 

Lady Nezhka looked Dwalin up and down with narrowed eyes before nodding and smiling. It was easier to read her expression than he'd expected, despite the veil. It was all about watching her (pretty, green--no, not pretty, dammit) eyes.

"Acceptable," she pronounced. "You will be on my arm tonight."

Nezhka walked up to him and turned, raising her hand expectantly. Growling silently (maybe not entirely silently), Dwalin held out his arm so that she could rest her hand on it.

Right. He'd fought an army of orcs at Azanulbizar. He could handle one stupid feast.

***

So, it turned out that Dwalin cleaned up quite nicely.

Nori wasn't sure _why_ dressing Dwalin in her colors felt so satisfying. It just did.

***

The real danger at the feast was that Dwalin would fall asleep out of sheer boredom. Dis had somehow arranged it so that she was sitting next to Lady Nezhka, with Thorin on her other side and Dwalin on Nezhka's other side. The fun of listening to Dis interrogate Nezhka had worn off quickly. All she wanted to know was about Nezhka's background and family, boring stuff like that.

Dwalin caught Thorin's eye and they exchanged a look of commiseration over the women's heads. Then something Nezhka said caught Thorin's attention. "Did you say that you found the mithril mines of Hrathi Stonefist?" Thorin asked.

"My third husband did," Nezhka corrected. "He found proof of their location on his last expedition to the White Mountains."

"That's merely a legend," Dis said. "I told it as a bedtime story to my children, for Mahal's sake."

Nezhka looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping (though with the sheer noise level of the feast hall, that would be a trick.) Leaning closer to Dis and Thorin, she said quietly, "I have a map."

"So?" Thorin scoffed. "A map doesn't prove anything. Anyone can fake a map."

"True," Nezhka said. "But I have proof beyond that."

"What proof?" Thorin asked.

Nezhka shook her head. "I can't say what it is here. But if you're really curious, I could show it to you in private later. Perhaps tomorrow?"

"Perhaps," Thorin said cooly.

To anyone who didn't know him, Thorin's expression would have looked bored and slightly disdainful. But Dwalin had known him since before either of them had fluff on their chins. He knew when Thorin was dying of curiosity. 

Nezhka inclined her head, smiling behind her veil.

***

Nori insisted on a dance, of course. It was worth it just for Dwalin's expression, which suggested that actual torture with hot pokers would be less painful than dancing the Thurkhkhai. 

It was a formal circle dance, with partners touching only at the fingertips as they moved through the patterns of the dance. Every time the dancers had to make a little shuffle-step-hop move, Nori almost suffocated from trying not to laugh at Dwalin's expression of deep disgust.

The dance ended with partners bowing and curtseying to each other. 

Nori straightened from her deep curtsey as the crowd clapped for the dancers. "I didn't know you were such a skilled dancer," she said.

Dwalin gave her a look about as dry as the Harad desert. "I need an ale." He'd already started to turn away when he paused and asked grudgingly, "You want anything?"

"No, thank you," Nori said. The blasted veil made eating and drinking a challenge. She wondered how real Orocarni women did it. Maybe they just didn't eat or drink in public.

"Right. Back in a minute."

Her back to a wall, Nori watched the room idly as she waited for Dwalin to return. Another dance had started, this one a traditional dance with a lot of stamping, clapping, and kicking. Maybe Dwalin would enjoy that kind of dancing more, Nori thought, chuckling.

Dwalin was walking back to her carrying a half-full pint glass when Nori caught a glimpse of movement in one of the balconies above the feast hall. Instinctively, she threw herself flat, hearing projectiles of some kind hit the wall above her.

Nori rolled to her feet, long knives in either hand. 

Dwalin had dropped the pint glass, drawing his axes and positioning himself between her and the direction the attack had come from. "Who's trying to kill you?" he demanded.

"I have no idea," Nori said. ( _There are just too many possibilities to name them all_ , she didn't say.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which stunning powers of deductive reasoning are displayed.

Nori took a quick glance at the projectiles that had hit the wall behind her. Short crossbow bolts, a little discolored at the tips--probably poisoned. She tore some fabric off of her underskirt and wrapped the bolts up.

"Here, you can use this," Dwalin said, holding out an empty belt pouch. 

"Thank you." Nori carefully put the bolts into the leather pouch, making sure the tips were securely covered. She wasn't sure how much they'd be able to learn from the bolts, but it was definitely a bad idea to leave poisoned projectiles lying around in a feast hall.

Whoever had attempted to kill her had really wanted the job done. And while there was a list as long as her arm of people who might want to kill Nori, she wasn't sure who would want to kill Lady Nezhka. Right, time for a little investigation.

The shooter was probably long gone, but Nori headed for the stairs to the balcony anyway.

"Where are you going?" Dwalin demanded, trying to grab her arm. 

She deftly avoided his hand and kept going. "I need to know who was trying to kill me. Join me or do not, guardsman, that's your choice."

She could hear him grumbling all the way up the stairs. Good thing she wasn't trying to sneak up on anyone.

Just as she'd expected, the balcony was deserted. Nothing was left at the place where she guessed the shooter must have been standing, not even footprints in the dust. A professional, then. 

Hmmmm. She and Grimr needed to have a little talk.

"Are you done now?" Dwalin asked. He still had his axes in either hand. "I don't like how exposed we are up here."

"They will not try again here," Nori said. "Not tonight."

"How do you know? People try to kill you a lot in the Red Mountains?"

She shrugged. "Business disputes can get a little heated."

Dwalin looked unconvinced. "Come on, let's get out of here. I want you somewhere more defensible."

Nori raised an eyebrow at him. "You look worried."

"I'm sworn to you for ten years," Dwalin said. "Wouldn't look good if I let you get killed in the first two days, would it?"

Nori hid a laugh behind her veil. "Indeed."

***

Things that did not add up about Lady Nezhka (a list by Dwalin, son of Fundin):

1) She did not look at all surprised (or really even frightened) when someone tried to kill her.

2) She threw herself out of the way of crossbow bolts and then rolled to her feet with knives in her hands.

3) She knew how to safely handle bolts that might have been poisoned.

4) She immediately figured out where on the balcony the shooter must have been standing.

5) Did he mention the rolling to her feet with knives in her hands? That had been... impressive.

Dwalin was beginning to think that the woman he'd gotten engaged to--been sworn to the service of, whatever--was no simple merchant. He needed proof before he brought his suspicions to Thorin, though.

He suspected that Lady Nezhka might be an Orocarni spy.

Spy or not, though, for now he was sworn to her service and he was going to keep her safe. Whether she appreciated it or not.

***

Nori had intended to take their leave of Thorin and Dis with some degree of subtlety, but Dwalin's first words upon returning to the table were, "Someone just tried to kill Lady Nezhka."

So much for subtlety.

Thorin's hand went to the hilt of his sword as he stood. "What happened?"

"Please, do not be alarmed," Nori said, spreading her hands out. "It was a single crossbowman who fled when the attempt failed."

"Who would try to kill you?" Dis asked.

Why did people keep asking her that as if she would know the answer? Nori repressed the urge to make some sort of snarky remark. Lady Nezhka was not snarky. "My guess would be that it is either a business competitor or someone who wants the map."

Dwalin looked twitchy. "We should get out of here. We're too exposed in here and it's impossible to keep an eye on all the exits."

Nori glared at him. "Did I not say that they wouldn't try again here?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Dwalin glared right back at her. "It's my duty to keep you safe and that is what I aim to do."

Dis made a sound like she was smothering a laugh. "Perhaps you should go. The feast will be winding down soon anyway."

Actually, the feast would probably go until the wee hours of the morning, but Nori took the graceful out that Dis had offered them. "Lady Dis, Lord Thorin, it has been a pleasure."

"Indeed," Thorin said. "I would be interested in seeing this further proof you say you have regarding the lost mines. Shall we say, tomorrow at the 15th bell?"

Well, the assassination attempt certainly had made Thorin more interested in hearing their story, Nori mused. Had Grimr...? No, that hadn't been a fake assassination attempt. If she hadn't dodged, those bolts would have hit her straight on. Someone wanted Lady Nezhka dead.

The question was, who?

***

The guest apartment was dark and silent when Dwalin and Lady Nezhka returned. He checked the main room and then had her wait while he did a sweep of the rest of the apartment. She was sitting in an armchair by the fire with a full wine glass by the time that he returned to the main room.

"It's clear," Dwalin announced. "Of the four bedrooms, two of them are empty, and I could hear snoring behind the two closed doors."

"I surmised as much from the lack of screams and bloodshed," she said.

Dwalin poked at the embers in the fireplace, adding another log to coax them to light again. Once the fire was burning to his satisfaction, he sat down in the other armchair, leaning Grasper and Keeper against the side in easy reach.

"Do you mean to stand watch?" she asked, sounding amused.

"Nothing wrong with being prepared."

She made a thoughtful noise and lifted the wine glass, deftly drinking from it underneath her veil.

"You could take that off," Dwalin offered. "Since we're in private."

"Ah, but only my husbands are allowed to see my face," she said. "And we're not wed. Not fully."

Dwalin grunted, staring at the fire.

For a few minutes only the crackling of the logs broke the silence. At last she asked, "Do you want to see my face?"

"I'd like to see the woman I'm engaged to," Dwalin said. "I think that's understandable."

"What if I'm hideous?" she asked, idly swirling the remaining wine in her glass.

"I doubt that."

"Hmmm," she said. "It's been a long night, guardsman. I'm going to bed."

"Dwalin," he said. "We're engaged. You might as well call me by name."

"All right. Good night, Dwalin," she said. The corners of her eyes crinkled in a smile.

Dwalin watched her hips sway as she left the room. He heard one of the bedroom doors open and close.

It took him a few minutes to realize that both of the empty bedrooms had been left with open doors. She'd gone into the bedroom of one of her husbands.

Dwalin slumped into the armchair and glared at the fireplace, suddenly in a foul mood for no particular reason at all.


	10. Chapter 10

As she opened the bedroom door, Nori heard Grimr's breathing change and then settle back into a very convincing snore.

Nori closed the door behind her. "I know you're awake, you old faker."

"Hard not to be, with your new beau tromping around the apartment like an oliphaunt," he said. There was the quiet sound of a match being struck and then the room was lit by the soft glow of a lamp. Grimr sat up in bed, dressed in a nightshirt with his graying black hair pulled back in a sleeping braid. "What's going on, my jewel?"

Nori stripped the veil off with a sigh of relief, dropping it on the table by the door. She'd be glad when this con was over, if only for the fact that she'd never have to try eating while wearing a veil again. "Someone tried to kill Lady Nezhka at the feast."

"Really?" Grimr sat with his back to the headboard and patted the bed next to him. "Tell me all about it."

Nori sat next to him, leaning against the headboard with her ankles crossed. "Sure, and then you can tell me why someone with the connections to buy a professional assassin wants Lady Nezhka dead."

"Why do you think it was a professional assassin?" he asked.

Nori put the belt pouch on the bed and pulled the bolts out of it, unwrapping them and laying them on the torn fabric carefully. "Poisoned bolts. Single crossbowman, fired two shots, fled when I dodged the bolts."

Grimr nodded. "You're right, that definitely sounds professional. Hmm," he said, inspecting one of the bolts. "I suspect the Mithril Hand may have figured out what happened to their map and key."

Nori closed her eyes and thunked the heel of her hand against the middle of her forehead. "You stole them from the _Mithril Hand_?"

"They didn't appear to be doing anything useful with them," Grimr said lightly. He wrapped the bolts back up and put them in the pouch, placing it on the small table by the bed.

Nori gestured wildly. "The Mahal-damned Mithril Hand, Grimr!"

"The place was guarded so poorly they were practically asking to be robbed."

"Right," Nori sighed. Of course Grimr wouldn't think much of stealing from the biggest crime family in the Ered Luin. No reason to worry. They were all going to die, that's all. "Tell me everything you know about the map."

"My contact knew only that the Mithril Hand had gotten hold of the map and key from a hermit in the White Mountains. Some senile old dwarf raving about Hrathi Stonefist's lost kingdom. My contact wasn't sure if the map was real or the product of a madman's obsession."

"Well, apparently the Mithril Hand thinks it's real enough," Nori said.

Grimr smiled, then started chuckling as he said, "You know, my dear, we may be the first grifters in history to actually try to sell a real treasure map."

She had to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. "Honest thieves, indeed."

***

Dwalin paused outside the bedroom door, listening to the murmur of soft voices behind it. He couldn't manage to make out any individual words. Not that he was eavesdropping, of course. He just happened to be standing in the hallway, right outside of that door. 

Dwalin backed away from the door at the sound of shared laughter, a lower masculine chuckle overlaid with Lady Nezhka's surprisingly unladylike cackle.

Right. He'd just... go get his whetstone. Grasper and Keeper probably needed sharpening.

***

Sobering, Nori said, "I have a meeting set up with Thorin Oakenshield tomorrow at the 15th bell. He wants to see the map and our proof that it's real."

"Excellent!" Grimr said, rubbing his hands together. "I'll make sure to drop the word that we're meeting with him in front of Lord Skagi's servants."

"As long as Lord Skagi doesn't decide it'd be easier to kill us than to pay us," she said.

He shrugged. "That's always a risk, I suppose. Staying with me tonight, my dear?"

"Probably best to keep our cover up with the guardsman staying with us." Nori stripped down to her undergown, piled most of her knives by the side of the bed so that they were easily at hand, and crawled under the covers. Her last knife she tucked under the pillow.

"Dwalin isn't going to be happy if he figures out that you stayed with me tonight," Grimr said, snuffing out the lantern and settling down.

"What do you mean?" Nori asked, curling up to Grimr's side. He shifted his arm so that she could lean on it more comfortably.

"He's becoming possessive of you," Grimr said. He paused and asked slowly, "Hadn't you noticed?"

"You're kidding."

He sighed. "You really hadn't noticed. Sloppy work for a grifter to miss something so obvious," he chided. "He practically vibrates with jealousy every time I get near you. Doesn't seem to consider Iakun a threat, though."

"Hmmm." Nori considered the new information. "That... might explain a few things, actually."

They lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes as Nori turned the revelation over in her head.

"It doesn't make any sense, though," she said. "I basically trapped him into being in my service. We're not really engaged, even though he keeps using that word."

"Oh, my dear," Grimr said gently, stroking her hair. "I'm afraid that you really don't understand men at all."

***

The next morning, Dwalin opened his bedroom door just as Lady Nezhka opened the door across from his. She stepped into the hallway and closed the door gently behind her.

"Good morning," she said, inclining her head. She was still wearing her dress from last night. Her hair was a little mussed, falling out of its elaborate braids, but it looked more like the effect of being slept on than having a lover's hands run through it. (Dwalin's fingers twitched at the thought.)

Dwalin stepped close to her, crowding her enough that she had to step back into the door, and asked, "Is it?"

"Is it what?" she asked, glaring up at him. An unraveled braid had left long locks of hair falling into her face.

Dwalin lifted a hand to brush the hair back from her face, taking what he hoped was a subtle breath through his nose. She smelled like bread, cinnamon, and a little bit of sleeping sweat, but what she did not smell like at all, not even in the slightest, was sex. "A good morning," he answered, dropping his hand and walking away from her.

"Did you just _sniff_ me?" Lady Nezhka demanded.

Dwalin smiled to himself and kept walking.


	11. Chapter 11

"As promised, the map."

Nori spread the map out on the round stone table with a dramatic flourish. Seated around the table, Thorin, Dis, Balin, Oin, and Gloin leaned over the map, entranced. 

Nori exchanged a glance with Grimr, who was sitting to her left. She was attempting to ignore Dwalin, on her right, since she was still feeling annoyed over the sniffing incident that morning. Iakun had been shooed outside the room to watch the door.

The meeting was being held at Gloin's house, which was in a wealthy area that Nori had only visited to steal from before. Her fingers twitched slightly as she contemplated all the expensive knick-knacks lying around.

"The Gap of Rohan," Oin read out loud in a piercing voice. The old dwarf was clearly going deaf as a post.

"And that'll be the Old South Road," Thorin pointed out, tracing a line on the map. "I've traveled that route through the Dunland. It's lousy with bandits," he said sourly. Beside Nori, Dwalin grunted agreement.

"The map looks accurate enough," Balin said. "I remember that little ridge just northwest of the Fords of Isen."

"That's a bloody long and dangerous journey to take for a bedtime story," Gloin said, shaking his head. 

"You said you have further proof, my lady?" Balin asked.

"I do," Nori nodded. "This came to me from the dying hand of my third husband, Mahal rest his soul." She paused long enough to build the anticipation, then drew from the bodice of her dress an oblong, clear stone about the size of a Dwarf's palm. 

She heard gasps of amazement as she held the stone up for a few minutes so that everyone could get a look at the intricate carvings along the sides. She handed it to Thorin, who turned it over in his hands, frowning thoughtfully.

"Balin?" he asked, handing it to the scribe. 

Balin took out a glass and examined the stone closely. "Ah yes, very interesting... That's Hrathi Stonefist's royal seal on this side, and the writing... you see there, where it uses the ancient forms of Haglaz and Ansuz?" He handed the stone back to Thorin, saying, "Either this is real or it's the best forgery I've ever seen."

Thorin handed the stone to Dis. "Dis, could you...?"

Dis took the stone and held it in her hands for several minutes with her eyes closed. At last she opened her eyes and placed the stone on the table, her hands shaking slightly. "The stone was mined at least two thousand years ago."

 _Mahal's hammers_. Nori had heard of dwarves whose stone-sense could detect how long ago a stone had been mined, but they were said to be extremely rare. She guessed that being of the line of Durin might mean something more than just being too stubborn to admit when your kingdom was well and truly lost.

And the thing that she and Grimr had been laughing about last night appeared to be true. They were probably the first grifters in history to try to sell a real treasure map.

Dwalin's deep voice next to her ear made Nori jump. "There's no mark on the map, though. No "Algiz marks the spot" or anything." He seemed to be leaning a little closer to her than necessary to look at the map. Nori refused to let him make her lean away.

"And that is where it gets really interesting." Nori held the stone about a hand's breadth above the map and said, "Look through it."

Thorin leaned over the table and looked through the stone. "I see a mark now," he said. 

Nori lifted the stone away. "And yet to the naked eye there is no mark at all."

Everyone took a turn peering through the stone at the map, exclaiming in surprise. Nori leaned back in her chair, feeling pleased at how interested Thorin and his people were in the map. If they could set up a bidding war between Lord Skagi and Thorin Oakenshield, then regardless of who won the bidding war, it was Grimr and Nori who would be the true winners. 

Unless the Mithril Hand killed them first. That thought did put a little bit of a damper on Nori's good mood.

"So, are you looking for funding for an expedition or to sell the map outright?" Gloin asked.

"I have business in the Red Mountains that I need to get back to relatively soon," Nori said smoothly. "I wouldn't be able to go on an expedition myself, so yes, I am looking to sell the map outright." Not to mention, even if the map _was_ real, the journey to the White Mountains would be months of hard travel through dangerous lands. Not Nori's idea of a good time.

"We'll need to discuss this before coming to a decision, of course," Thorin said, exchanging glances with Balin.

"Of course. Oh, before I forget to mention--as I told Lord Skagi, there is one other trick to the stone. This I will only reveal to the buyer after the deal is done," Nori said. She wasn't particularly worried that Thorin Oakenshield would try to stab her in the back, but she hadn't survived this long by being foolishly trusting. 

"Understood," Thorin said, inclining his head regally.

"It was lovely to see you again, Lady Nezhka," Dis said. "We should definitely dine together again soon. Don't you agree, Thorin? Dwalin?" They grunted unenthusiastically. Typical males.

"I look forward to it," Nori smiled. Dis was good people. Not nearly as spoiled and haughty as she would have expected of a former princess.

Before leaving the room, Nori stashed the stone in her bodice. There was no way she was missing out on a score this big because some idiot managed to pickpocket her in the market. (Not that there were many thieves good enough to pickpocket Nori.) Grimr tucked the map away under his tunic. They'd agreed that it was a good idea to carry the two items separately since they were useless without each other.

"You carry that in your..." Dwalin trailed off, gesturing toward her breasts.

"My bodice?" Nori smirked. "It's an excellent place to hide things. After all, if anyone tries to pickpocket me there, I'll definitely feel it." She winked.

Dwalin was still sputtering as she walked away, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using the Futhark names for the runes because Tolkien appears not to have named the Cirth runes. If you were wondering, everything about Hrathi Stonefist, the Mithril Hand, and the polyandry of the Orocarni Dwarves is completely made up and non-canon.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since this was mentioned, so: Grimr's alias as Lady Nezhka's husband is Grigori.

There was a stout, self-important looking dwarf with elaborate, oiled braids and entirely too much jewelry waiting for them in the main room of the guest apartment when they returned that evening. 

Dwalin saw Lady Nezhka's shoulders stiffen as she noticed the intruder. "Lord Skagi, what a surprise," she said. 

"Lady Nezhka, you are radiant as ever," Lord Skagi said, lifting one of her hands and kissing the back of it.

"Thank you," she nodded, gracefully disengaging her hand and sitting down on one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. "Did you need to speak to me about something?" 

Without even discussing it, Dwalin and Nezhka's grey-haired husband, Grigori, took up their places behind and slightly to either side of her. Iakun, her young, spotty husband, muttered something that sounded like an apology and disappeared into his bedroom.

Lord Skagi sat in the armchair across from her. "I was simply wondering where you were this afternoon. I had hoped to tempt you into a trip to the great market, perhaps followed by dinner at a lovely little restaurant I know," he said with an oily smile.

"I had business in Uptown," Nezhka shrugged carelessly. 

"Regarding?" Lord Skagi's eyes were lingering on areas of Nezhka's body that were going to get him punched soon, if Dwalin had any say in it.

"Oh, I met Thorin Oakenshield at the feast the other night and he was very interested in my stories about the Red Mountains. He has a keen interest in history." She was keeping her voice tightly controlled, but Dwalin was starting to learn the subtle cues that meant that Lady Nezhka was irritated and on her way to getting angry.

Apparently not noticing, her growing irritation, Lord Skagi shook his head, making a tutting noise. "Thorin Oakenshield? My lady, I'm afraid that I must warn you away from him. He's a dangerous friend to have."

Dwalin stiffened. How dare this soft-handed nobleman insult Thorin Oakenshield? Thorin was easily worth ten of him.

"How so?" Nezhka asked.

Lord Skagi lowered his voice and leaned forward in the way of someone passing on a juicy bit of gossip. "The King of Ered Luin only agreed to let the Ereborean dwarves settle here if Thorin Oakenshield would swear on his honor that he would not attempt to found a kingdom of his own in the Blue Mountains."

Sounding bored, Nezhka asked, "So? He swore the oath, did he not?"

"Yes, but there are many in Ered Luin who feel that Thorin Oakenshield is simply biding his time until enough of his Ereborean loyalists drift in on the wind--"

"How dare you?" Dwalin demanded, growling down at Lord Skagi's pale, puffy face. "Thorin Oakenshield is no oathbreaker!" He was barely aware that he'd moved until he felt a small but strong hand tugging at his elbow, which was tensed to swing a punch.

"Lord Skagi, please accept my sincere apologies on behalf of my husband," Nezhka said, using her hand on Dwalin's elbow to insert herself between them. She leaned back against Dwalin, insistently pushing him away from the nobleman without appearing to do anything.

"He dares to lay a hand on me!" Skagi snarled, rising to his full, not particularly impressive, height.

Nezhka stopped pushing Dwalin backward but didn't step away. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but appreciate the feeling of her lean body pressed up against his. "He did not, actually, lay a hand on you," Nezhka said in a voice like the crack of a whip. "I deeply apologize that he threatened to, and for that insult you may request compensation, on my honor."

"That will not be necessary," Skagi said haughtily. "I accept your apology on his behalf, Lady Nezhka. But keep your man under better control in the future." With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Dwalin expected Nezhka to explode the moment Skagi left. Instead she sighed, her body relaxing, and wandered over to the couch. She plopped herself down in the middle of the couch and kicked her boots off. "I need some wine," she said, waving a hand and then letting it drop to her side heavily.

Grigori, busy stoking the fire, nodded at Dwalin. "Open a fresh bottle and rinse the glass out thoroughly with water. Actually, rinse out three glasses."

In case the opened wine or wine glasses on the buffet had been poisoned, he didn't have to say. Whoever had shot at Nezhka yesterday might try again. Dwalin nodded curtly. The fact that Grigori was concerned about keeping Nezhka safe made Dwalin feel a little more charitable towards him.

Coming back from rinsing the wine glasses out, Dwalin revised his opinion: he definitely wanted to punch Grigori. Nezhka was lying on the sofa with her head resting on the older dwarf's thigh as they spoke too quietly for Dwalin to hear. They stopped talking as he came back into the room.

Dwalin brought over the bottle and three glasses. At first he felt pleased that Nezhka had to sit up in order to drink, but then she sat sideways on the couch and used Grigori as a backrest and he felt annoyed again. Not looking at his own motives too closely, Dwalin sat down and arranged things so that her feet rested in his lap.

They drank in silence for a few minutes. Grigori had blown out most of the oil lamps and the room was now mainly lit by the fireplace. The firelight glinted in Nezhka's dark red hair like little embers. Not that Dwalin was looking, of course.

"Well?" Nezhka asked, wiggling her toes. "Aren't you going to make an awkward but presumably heartfelt apology for almost punching our host?"

Dwalin grumbled. "He's an ass."

"True enough," she said. "You don't need to apologize, anyway. He was deliberately baiting you."

"Wanker," Dwalin said succinctly. 

Nezhka laughed and sipped at her wine. Her toes wiggled again and Dwalin started rubbing her feet absentmindedly. After her husband died while Dis was pregnant with Kili, Dwalin rubbed her feet every night. Dis was like a sister to him and grief-stricken besides, so it had been an entirely innocent comfort.

It stopped being absentminded or innocent the moment that he ran his thumb along the arch of her foot and Nezhka moaned. Dwalin pressed his thumb just under the ball of her foot and she groaned. 

Dwalin swallowed. He could get addicted to making her make those noises.

"Well, I'm to bed," Grigori said, standing. "Don't stay up too late."

And with that, he left Nezhka and Dwalin alone in a room that suddenly seemed very dark and intimate with just the two of them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that the rating has gone up to mature. Shenanigans of a sexy-times nature ahead!
> 
> Chapter ending has been edited.

_Grimr, you coward_ , Nori thought as her partner in crime beat a swift retreat from the main room. Doubtless he didn't want a repeat of the infamous Durin's Day Eve of 2878, when a very intoxicated Nori and... hmm, what was his name?... had sex in the same bed that Grimr had been passed out in, pretty much on top of him. Grimr had claimed that he was scarred for life.

Ah, memories. Admittedly fuzzy ones, but fond memories nevertheless.

Not that there was going to be any sex here and now. Foot rubs, though, those could continue. Nori wiggled her feet, since Dwalin appeared to be lost in thought and his fingers had stopped moving. He jumped a little and started rubbing her feet again. Oh, bliss.

She was aware of the effect her moaning and groaning was having on Dwalin but, well, Nori had never been accused of being a particularly nice person. And watching through slitted eyes as he attempted to keep his composure while growing increasingly aroused was... entertaining. Entertaining in a way that might require her to find some personal time in the bath after this.

At last even Dwalin had to admit that he'd rubbed her feet as much as possible. Still cradling her stockinged feet in his hands, he offered, "I could help you take your braids down, if you'd like."

 _Why, Master Guardsman, are you trying to seduce me?_ Nori grinned behind her veil, holding back the snarky remark. He'd stomp off muttering for sure if she antagonized him, and hell if she was doing that before she got more pampering. "That would be much appreciated," she said demurely.

Nori rearranged herself so that she was sitting sideways on the couch with her back to him. As Lady Nezhka, she wore her hair in an elaborately braided style almost worthy of Dori at her most princessy. It took Grimr about three-quarters of an hour every morning to get it braided properly.

Oh, but she'd forgotten that the cord that held her veil up was threaded under the heavily braided top portion of her hair. "I'll have to untie my veil in order for you to get all of my braids undone," Nori said. "I will need your word that you will not peek."

"On my honor," he rumbled. "I swear that I will not look upon your face without your permission." Nori shivered a little. _Mahal_ , why was that so sexy?

Slowly, she untied the cord and let the veil drop into her lap. She heard Dwalin take a deep, unsteady breath.

His thick fingers were surprisingly deft at unraveling braids and removing beads. Dwalin handed each bead to her as he pulled it out of her hair. His hands moved gently as he combed his fingers through the unraveled braids and then slid the freed hair forward over her shoulder to keep it out of the way as he worked.

The fire in the hearth popped quietly, the room going dark as the log burnt low. One of them should get up and add another piece of wood to the fire, she thought, but made no motion to get up.

"You're good at that," Nori said. She noticed that her voice had gone husky.

"I used to do this for Dis after her husband died," Dwalin said. His voice, too, was even lower than usual, rumbling in his chest.

"Were you and she ever...?"

"No. She's like a sister to me. Despite all of Balin's attempts to encourage something between us in the decades after her husband died." She could practically hear his eyes roll.

At last, he finished unraveling all of her braids, pulling her hair back from over her shoulder so that he could run his fingers through it. Nori's eyes drifted shut as he slid his fingers through her long hair again and again.

"I know you won't let me see your face," Dwalin said. "But I have been wondering about something. Do you have freckles?"

Nori laughed quietly. "Yes, I do," she said. "I am a redhead, after all."

Dwalin made a humming noise. "I only wondered because you have freckles on your shoulders here. And here," he said, tracing a fingertip over her shoulder where it was left bare by the wide, square collar of her dress. Nori shivered again.

He leaned forward and Nori felt the soft brush of his beard and then his warm lips as he kissed the line of her shoulder. She sucked in a deep breath. "Dwalin," she warned unsteadily.

"Dwarves who are engaged to be married may engage in gentle affection without fear of scandal or impropriety." He sounded like he was quoting something. Nori couldn't decide if it was endearing or vaguely terrifying that Dwalin had apparently done research on what they could get away with doing while engaged.

"Gentle affection, is that what that is?" Nori asked, but didn't object as his mouth trailed up the side of her neck.

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, kissing the hollow under her ear. His hands landed on her hips and flexed, kneading the flesh with strong fingers. She moaned.

Oh, she really needed to stop doing this, this was a terrible fucking idea...

Nori tensed, ready to pull herself away. Dwalin slid a hand into her hair at the nape of her neck and Nori heard herself make a high, breathless noise as he tugged sharply on her hair, her neck arching as he bit the side of her neck.

Right, she could... maybe put a stop to this in a few minutes...

Dwalin paused, his hand loosening in her hair. His lips brushed against the skin of her neck as he asked, "May I kiss you, my lady? I'll keep my eyes closed."

Nori made a desperate sound, twisting around so that she kneeled on the couch in front of him. She grabbed his shoulders and kissed him hard, feeling him freeze for a moment in surprise before he enthusiastically reciprocated. Dwalin slid an arm around her waist and kissed her with such intensity that she started to bend backwards, his arm supporting more and more of her weight.

She scratched her short nails over the back of his neck, feeling him growl against her mouth. Hazy thoughts of having him right there on the couch started to float through her mind. The same thoughts seemed to have occurred to him, as he shifted to lay her down on the couch, following her down without breaking the kiss.

 _And then what?_ her oft-ignored conscience pointed out. _Then you'll be married to a Dwarf who doesn't even know your real name._ (Nori's conscience sounded just like Dori in a pissy mood.)

Shit. Nori hated having a conscience.

"Wait," she said.

Dwalin pulled back just enough that they were no longer kissing. "What," he groaned. Nori had to admire his self-control--his eyes were still closed, just like he'd promised.

They were both breathing hard and she could feel his hard cock pressing against her thigh. It took every bit of Nori's self-control not to start kissing him again. "We have to stop."

Dwalin groaned wordlessly, propping himself up on his elbows with his head hanging low. "You've got to be joking." 

She twisted and slid out from underneath him, rolling to her feet and stepping away from the couch in one fluid movement. She said quietly, "If we go any further, we're going to end up married whether we want it or no." 

He rolled on his back, draping a muscular forearm across his eyes, and didn't say anything.

Nori turned away, saying, "Good night, Dwalin."

"You know, in all this you've never once asked me."

She paused at the doorway, looking at him over her shoulder. He was standing in front of the couch with his eyes closed, looking strangely vulnerable. "Asked you what?"

"If I wanted it," Dwalin said. "Well, what if I do?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited the ending to chapter 13 because I really wasn't happy with it, so you may want to re-read it if you've already read that chapter.

Dwalin was not a Dwarf generally given to impulsive words or actions, but he followed his instincts. As a warrior he knew that in a fight one's instincts often spelled the difference between life and death. And right now his instincts were telling him that if he let her walk out that door, he'd never have this chance again.

Dwalin stood up and said the first thing that occurred to him. "You know, in all this you've never once asked me."

His eyes were still closed, so he wasn't sure if she'd left until he heard her ask quietly, "Asked you what?"

"If I wanted it." He paused for a second and realized that, yes, all his instincts were saying the same thing. He wanted her. Wanted her to be his, for good. "Well, what if I do?"

"Want what?" He could imagine the puzzled crinkle between her eyebrows.

"To get married. To you, lass," he clarified, not wanting any further confusion.

"You don't even know me," she said flatly.

Dwalin sat down on the couch, trying to look less threatening (he'd long ago accepted that there was no way he could manage completely unthreatening.) "Could you put your veil back on? I'm worried I'm going to accidentally open my eyes if I keep talking to you." 

Also, anything that kept her in the room for a few more minutes lessened the likelihood that she'd just bolt. 

He heard the whispering of fabric shifting and then a pause that he imagined was her tying the veil's cords. "You can look now," she said.

Dwalin opened his eyes. Lady Nezhka stood poised halfway between the door and the couch, looking like she'd be out the door in half a second if she decided to flee. Her long hair was deliciously mussed and he wanted desperately to tangle it in his hands again.

He took a deep breath and leaned back against the couch, spreading his arms out comfortably. "I may not know much about your history, but I know _you_."

She laughed, but there was no mirth in it. "No, you don't."

"I know that you're sarcastic and snarky, and you spend a lot of time wanting to stab people for being stupid."

This time she laughed like the air had been punched out of her. "Just the really stupid ones," she said, crossing her arms under her breasts. Dwalin tried to ignore what that did to her cleavage-- _not the time_.

"I know that you're dangerous, and I know you're not who you say you are." He raised his hands, fingers spread in the universal gesture for "not armed" as he saw her tensing to flee, and said quickly, "I don't care. I may be an idiot, but I really don't care if you're an Orocarni spy. As long as you're not here to harm Thorin or his family, obviously."

"Obviously," she said, vibrating like a wire with tension but not leaving. "I imagine that would put some strain on the--on the relationship." She started pacing, her movements sharp with frustration.

Dwalin forced himself to sit passively and watch her. His instincts were telling him that any movement toward her right now would result in her daggers appearing from the arm sheaths that she wore under the long, bell-like sleeves of her dress. ( _Mahal, what a woman._ )

At last she turned and pointed at him accusingly. "You are completely crazy. Insane. We'd be fantastic in bed together and you think it's sexy that I'm a sarcastic, snarky bitch who sometimes stabs people. That's why you want to get married?" 

Dwalin grinned smugly at the "fantastic in bed" comment. "I wouldn't say no," he shrugged, pretending to be casual about it.

"Hah!" She threw her hands in the air. "Right. I'm going to bed. With my _other husband_. Hopefully in the morning you'll have regained your sanity."

Dwalin's blood boiled at the mention of her other husbands. _Mahal's hammer_. That was an aspect of any possible marriage to Nezhka that he really needed to think about further. Dwalin, like many Dwarves, was incredibly possessive of anything that he considered his. He was afraid that he was already starting to consider Nezhka to be his.

She was staring at him with narrowed eyes, her voice sounding viciously amused as she asked, "Forgot about that part, did you?"

Dwalin shook his head, not commenting. "Do I get a goodnight kiss?" he asked as she turned to go.

Nezhka paused, mumbling something under her breath that included the word "stupid." She turned to face him and said, "Hands on the couch and they don't move. Eyes closed."

He was honestly just expecting a good night peck on the cheek. So he was astonished but pleased when he felt her straddle him, her weight resting on his lap and her hands on his shoulders. There was a brief pause while she lifted her hands up (untying her veil?) and her weight shifted deliciously. 

Then she was kissing him, her mouth hot and wet, and Dwalin gripped the couch cushions with both hands to resist the urge to grab her and get her underneath him again.

She moaned in the back of her throat, rubbing up against his rapidly hardening cock. Dwalin was fairly sure his fingers were just going to go right through the couch cushions with how hard he was gripping them. 

She pulled away from his mouth finally, panting and turning her head away. He took the opportunity to bury his nose in her hair, breathing in deeply and smelling a heady mixture of her usual scent (bread and cinnamon) and the sharp new scent of her arousal.

"Again with the sniffing," she said, sounding as if she wasn't sure if she was annoyed or amused.

"You smell good," he mumbled into her soft hair. They rested like that for a moment.

She sighed and pulled away, slipping out of his lap. He heard the soft whisper of her dress brushing against the door frame. "Good night, Dwalin," she said quietly.

"Sleep well," he said.

Dwalin listened to her walk away almost silently. One of the doors in the hallway closed. He was on his feet immediately, because that sounded like...

Yes. The door to the bathroom, which had among its ridiculous luxuries a bath with actual running hot water, was closed and he could hear water running through the pipes.

There was really only one reason he could think of why a woman would go take a bath right after a vigorous kissing-and-groping session.

Dwalin fumbled the door of his bedroom closed with one hand, his other hand already wrestling with the ties to his braies. _Mahal_ , that woman was going to be the death of him.


	15. Chapter 15

Grimr was lying on his back with his arms and legs spread across his bed like a starfish when Nori, wearing only a towel, padded into his room on silent feet. "Shove over, I know you're awake," she said, dropping the towel and digging in his chest of drawers for a nightshirt.

"Put some clothing on, you shameless hussy," he grumped. "My aging heart can't take such shocks."

"Your aging heart," Nori repeated mockingly as she pulled one of his spare nightshirts over her head. She threw back the covers on his bed and climbed in. "Your aging heart is made of mithril and granite."

"Something's got you riled up," Grimr said. He shifted over to give her room on the bed, lying on his back with his hands clasped over his stomach. "Did your evening with the guardsman not go well?"

Grumbling, she curled up with her head tucked against his shoulder. She poked at a tender spot on his side with a stiff finger as she said, "If you're planning on becoming a matchmaker in your old age, I'd advise you to find a hobby you're better at."

"I'll keep that in mind for my dotage, which will clearly be any minute now. What's got you in such a mood, my jewel?"

"You know when you told me I didn't understand men at all and I ignored you because you were full of wargshit? Apparently, you weren't."

"Ah," Grimr sighed. "What did he do?"

Nori mumbled, "Nearly fucked me into the couch," into his shoulder, then propped herself up on an elbow and said more clearly, "Kissed me into a puddle and then told me he wouldn't mind getting married."

Grimr squinted up at her. "That's... unexpected. And sudden."

"Apparently, when Dwalin makes up his mind, he _really_ makes up his mind." And he was really Mahal-damned persuasive about it. She almost hadn't managed to pull herself away from the "goodnight kiss."

"You didn't stab him, so I'm assuming the kissing part wasn't unwelcome," Grimr said. "So, that does beg the question... how do you feel about the rest of it?"

"I don't know." She flopped on her back, scowling up at the ceiling. "I don't know! We have the Mithril Hand trying to kill us, Lord Skagi trying to... was he trying to threaten us? I couldn't tell, and the Mahal-damned treasure map we're trying to sell appears to be the real thing. Why am I even worrying about this mess with Dwalin?"

Grimr sighed. "Nori, you know that I love you like my own daughter, which is why I'll give you my extremely wise and valuable advice for free. Your heart isn't made of mithril and granite, much though you might wish it were, and _neither is his_."

Nori clenched her fists, her body tensing. _Five steps to the window, unlock it and jump out onto the balcony, climb the drainpipe two stories up to the roof. Take the rooftops to Washer Way where there's a poorly-guarded side gate. Knock out the guards, steal a horse, be on the road before dawn._ She took a deep breath, fighting down the sudden feeling of claustrophobia.

"Love is a trap, Grimr, it's a closed cell door. Every thief knows that."

He stroked his free hand over her hair, saying, "Sometimes that's not so bad, if you have the right cell-mate." 

"Your valuable advice is a load of wargshit."

Grimr shrugged. "Advice is only as smart as the ears that hear it."

"Are you calling me dim?" Nori asked, poking him in the side again. Growing serious, she said, "Besides, in the end none of this matters. I've been lying to Dwalin since the moment I met him. And once he finds out, it's all over. I'll be lucky if he doesn't try to kill me."

Grimr's voice was soft but certain as he said, "I think you're underestimating him."

Nori was silent for several minutes, thinking it over. Love was a trap, Dwalin was crazy to want to get married to her, she should just forget the whole thing and cut her losses... but the thought of the look of betrayal on Dwalin's face when he found out the truth (as he inevitably would) turned her stomach. 

"I hope you're right," she whispered.

***

The guest apartment was almost silent and felt strangely empty when Dwalin arose the next morning. He wandered out into the main room and followed the faint sounds of movement to the kitchen.

Nezhka was sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over a small, steaming cup of something that didn't smell at all like tea. She glanced up as he entered and they both froze, staring at each other.

Her hair was unbraided and the soft lengths of red hair fell all the way to her hips. The right sleeve of her dress was pushed up a little and he could see a hint of one of the knife-sheaths she carried on her forearms. Her eyes were wide with surprise, the same mossy green as her dress. She was beautiful.

After an awkward pause, she said, "Good morning."

"Morning." He gestured to the cup in her hand. "What're you drinking?"

"Kava. It's something the Haradrim drink. Very bitter and sweet." She gestured to a small metal contraption that he had at first taken for a teapot. "There's more if you'd like to try it."

Dwalin grunted, suspicious of foreign food and drink. He poured a small cup half full and sniffed it dubiously before trying a taste. "Ugh, that's bitter! Sort of tasty though, I guess."

"It grows on you." Nezhka seemed lost in thought, turning the cup around idly in her hands.

"Where is everyone?"

"Grigori had an errand. I'm not sure where Iakun is." She sounded worried.

"They left you here alone when there's still someone out there trying to kill you?" Dwalin was not impressed.

"I'm hardly helpless," she said, flicking her wrist-knives out of their sheaths and into her hands with one practiced move. "I've got these," she slid the knives back into their sheaths, "and these." She hiked her skirts over her knees and drew a pair of longer knives out of sheaths strapped to her thighs. Dwalin about swallowed his tongue.

"What?" she said when Dwalin didn't say anything.

"Honestly? Thinking about you, me, and that table, lass," Dwalin said hoarsely. Not the way he was raised to talk to a lady, but something (everything) about her made him lose control of himself.

Her cheeks flushed above the veil and her eyes darkened. She slid the knives back into their thigh-holsters slowly. Dwalin's hands flexed.

And then the door chimes sounded.

Nezhka stood abruptly, shoving her chair back. "If that's Lord Skagi, I'm going to knife someone," she announced, stomping into the main room. Dwalin followed, loosening Grasper and Keeper in their sheaths.

The red-haired girl at the door looked vaguely familiar. "I bear a message from Balin, Law Scribe of Ered Luin, to Lady Nezhka of the Orocarni!" she rattled off without taking a breath.

Nezhka's shoulders relaxed a little but her voice was tense as she said, "Get inside."

The girl fairly bounced in place, staring around the opulent guest apartment with big brown eyes. "Oh! Here is the scroll," she said, drawing a sealed scroll out of the satchel that she carried slung over her shoulder.

"My thanks," Nezhka said, cracking the wax seal open and reading the contents intently.

"You're Master Balin's brother, aren't you?" the girl asked. "I'm his apprentice." Her inexpertly tied braids bounced as she talked. Dwalin tried to guess her age--maybe a little younger than the princes? 

"Aye," he said. "You must be little Ori. My brother speaks well of you."

Ori beamed. "Did you hear that, No--" She choked and started coughing violently. 

Dwalin pounded her on the back. "You alright there, girl?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she wheezed, waving him off.

Nezhka had paced to the other side of the room and was standing in front of the hearth, tapping the scroll on the edge of the mantle. "What is it?" Dwalin asked, not putting a hand on her waist the way that he wanted but still standing too close to be mistaken as anything less than intimate.

She glanced at him quickly and then looked away. "Thorin Oakenshield and his backers have made their offer. They can't beat Lord Skagi's offer but they're offering a full share of the treasure if I--and my husbands--join them on an expedition."

"Would you?" Dwalin asked. "You said you couldn't go on an expedition because you had business to attend to."

She shook her head. "I don't know. With the people who are trying to kill me... I need to talk this over with Gri--with Grigori. Where is he?" She turned away, her arms crossed and her shoulders slightly hunched as she stared into the fireplace.

There was a thump and a rattle from the direction of the balcony that opened up off the main room. Nezhka's head whipped to the side and she gasped, almost dropping the scroll as she rushed to the balcony doors.

Lying on the balcony, a figure stirred feebly.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for action movie-style violence. Plot just keeps happening, sorry! 
> 
> Also, in case you were wondering what Grimr looks like, I've fantasy-cast him with Eddie Izzard in a full beard, with long hair going to grey. Hopefully that doesn't ruin Grimr for anyone!

There was a thump and a rattle from the direction of the balcony that opened up off the main room. Lying on the balcony, a figure stirred feebly.

Nori's first thought was _Oh Mahal, Grimr, why did I let you go out without back-up?_ She swung the leaded glass-paned door open and stepped through it, her heart thudding with relief as she discovered that she didn't recognize the blood-stained Dwarf lying on the balcony.

Grimr swung down from the balcony above them, landing next to the vaguely struggling Dwarf and ending his life with the quick slice of a knife through the throat.

Behind Nori, Ori let out a short shriek. Nori glanced over her shoulder and saw that her little sister had her hands clapped over her mouth, her horrified eyes as round as saucers. _Shit. Dori is going to kill me._

Still inside the apartment, Dwalin stepped deliberately in between Ori and the sight of the Dwarf bleeding out on the balcony. Nori signed "thank you" in Iglishmek and then closed the glass door behind her, ignoring Dwalin's indignant look at being shut out.

"Are you injured?" Nori asked.

Grimr wiped his knife off on the dead Dwarf's tunic. "Not even breathing hard," he said. Sheathing the knife, he started quickly patting down the corpse's pockets.

Nori squatted next to him, careful to keep her skirt from trailing in the pool of blood. "Who's the corpse?"

"Just a sell-sword. The bad news is, the Mithril Hand has put an open price on your head," Grimr said, pulling a small bronze tile out of one of the body's pockets. "The good news is, they don't know your real name," he said, handing Nori the tile. 

She turned it over in her hands. One one side was the etching of a stylized hand and on the other, Cirth runes spelling out "Nezhka."

"We need to get out of here," Nori said, suddenly feeling horribly exposed. 

The balcony was four stories above the street, allowing for a pleasant breeze from the massive airshafts that brought fresh air into the mountain and far enough up from ground level to diminish the street noise. It had been a pleasant perk of the fancy guest apartment Lord Skagi had furnished them with. Now all Nori could see was the multitude of vantage points from which a crossbowman could target them.

"Agreed," Grimr said. He glanced past Nori's shoulder into the apartment. "Where's Iakun?"

"He was gone when I got up this morning." She raised her eyebrows at Grimr, silently asking him what he thought. She hadn't known their third partner on this venture at all--Grimr had vouched for him.

Grimr shook his head. "Well, whether he's sold us out or simply has spectacularly bad timing, we're going to have to leave without him. There are going to be more sell-swords trying their luck, and soon."

Nori opened the balcony door, telling Ori, "Don't look." Ori squeaked and covered her eyes with her hands. "Dwalin, could you lend a hand?" 

Dwalin and Grimr dragged the corpse into the apartment while Nori ducked into her bedroom. She stripped out of her dress quickly then paused, staring at herself in the silvered glass mirror above the chest of drawers. Slowly, her hands went to the ties of her veil. 

The Mithril Hand was hunting for a veiled Orocarni lady, not a woman dressed like a boy. 

If she kept using the green kohl she'd been lining her hazel eyes with to make them look more green, if she kept speaking at the lower end of her voice range, if she kept her hair pulled back in a single braid rather than the three-peaked style she'd been wearing that day, then maybe, _maybe_ Dwalin wouldn't recognize her as the thief from the great market.

She didn't have any time to waste. Nori stripped off the veil, threw on a plain tunic and trousers, and tugged on a pair of boots. She was standing in front of the mirror, smudging kohl around her eyes, when there was a knock at the bedroom door.

"Come in," she called, not turning around. 

In the mirror, she saw the door open and Dwalin step into the room. Looking down, she carefully screwed the lid back onto the pot of kohl with shaking fingers.

Steeling herself, she met Dwalin's eyes in the mirror.

***

"Go check on Lady Nezhka," Grigori told Dwalin after they'd finished dragging the body into a closet. "I'll watch the street and keep an eye on the little one."

Dwalin gave him a keen look and then nodded. The older Dwarf seemed devoted to Nezhka, which was something that Dwalin fully approved of. In fact, if he hadn't already been married to the woman Dwalin wanted to marry, he imagined that he'd probably have liked Grigori quite a lot. 

He knocked on the door of the room that was nominally Nezhka's. He heard her call for him to come in and Dwalin opened the door, then stopped short in the doorway.

She wasn't wearing her veil.

Dwalin's eyes roamed over her face, memorizing her features. She had a narrow face with a long, pointy nose and high cheekbones. Her upper lip was narrow, her lower lip more generous. Her sideburns were long and feathery, not growing particularly far around her jaw. He supposed that to another Dwarf's eyes she might not be a classic Dwarven beauty, but to his eyes she was perfect.

She met his eyes in the mirror and he suddenly realized that he was staring at her bare face without permission, something that he had sworn not to do. He went down on one knee, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"I broke my oath to you," he said, deeply shamed. "For this dishonor, I offer to you my beard and my axes--"

"Dwalin," she interrupted. He heard her walk over to him and felt her cool hand rest on the bare skin on the top of his head. "You did not break your word intentionally. I, as the sole holder of your oath, release you from your oath retroactively and declare your word unbroken. No, don't argue with me, that's well within my legal rights."

"Thank you, my lady." Dwalin opened his eyes, staring at the ground.

"Look at me," she said, her hand sliding down the side of his face to his jaw. Tangling her fingers in his beard, she urged his face up.

She was smiling at him, her eyes crinkled at the corners. She had long dimples on either side of her mouth and freckles on her nose. "You're lovely."

"I'm skinny and pointy," she said, making a face. "You're delusional."

"No," Dwalin said, shaking his head. "You're beautiful, lass."

She made an incoherent noise and cupped her hands under his jaw, leaning over to kiss him. She was such a small thing--probably a good half a foot shorter than him--that she didn't even need to lean over all that much. Dwalin wrapped his arms around her, kissing her deeply, leaning backwards a little so that he was supporting part of her weight. She growled in the back of her throat and bit his lower lip.

"Master Grigori says that we--oh!" A startled squeak came from the doorway.

Nezhka twisted out of Dwalin's arms and was halfway across the room in less time than it took to blink. "Yes? What does Master Grigori say?" she asked, smoothing a hand over her hair. Her lips were kiss-swollen and she was breathing hard.

Dwalin himself was in no fit state to stand up yet, particularly not in front of a young, innocent girl. 

"That we have to go now. He doesn't like the looks of something down on the street," Ori reported. Her eyes darted back and forth between Nezhka and Dwalin.

That news killed the lingering effects of their embrace like a bucket of cold water. Dwalin stood up, asking, "You have everything you need, my lady?"

"One more thing," she said. From the chest of drawers, she pulled out a belt with two knives sheathed crosswise. With the ease of long practice, she fastened the belt around her hips with the knives crossing behind her back. She slid both knives out of their sheaths, flipped them, and sheathed them again in one fluid movement.

Dwalin had to ask. "How many knives do you carry?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Aye," Dwalin breathed. This really wasn't the right time to tackle her to the floor and get back to doing what they'd been doing before Ori had interrupted them, but Mahal, he wanted to.

Her smile widened and her eyes flashed. She was clearly quite aware of the thoughts that Dwalin was having. But all she said was, "Then let's go."

Ori bounced out of the room. As she followed the girl out of the room, Nezhka glanced up at Dwalin and murmured, "Maybe if you're good, I'll show you my knives later."

And then she walked away, her smile made of pure mischief.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally meet a few more familiar faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ori is about the equivalent of a human 15, a little older than I had figured originally.

"I spotted half a dozen suspicious-looking fellows headed up the street," Grimr said. "We'd better get out of here while we still can."

"Can't go over the roof," Nori said, jerking her head in Dwalin and Ori's direction. They'd never be able to make it. "I spotted a connecting door to the next building up on the sixth floor."

"Sounds like just what we need," Grimr said.

"Ori, sweetheart," Nori said, pulling Ori aside and kneeling in front of her. "We need to go fast and silent now. Just follow me. If we get separated, go to Master Balin's office and tell him what happened."

"I understand," Ori nodded, looking resolute. Her little sister was so grown up! Nori resisted the urge to tug on Ori's braids to make her smile.

"Right," Nori said, standing up. "You have the map?" she asked Grimr. 

He nodded. "You have the key?"

"Not an amateur, love," she said, smiling. She heard Dwalin growl under his breath (probably over her calling Grimr "love") and rolled her eyes at him. "Right, let's go."

They took the servant's stairs, keeping an ear cocked for any signs of pursuit. They had just started to hear footsteps pounding up the stairs far below them when they reached the sixth floor. Nori led them to a maintenance closet and had the half-sized door at the back of the closet jimmied open in a couple of seconds. The door led into an identical closet in the next building over.

She jammed the lock after they went over into the next building. No reason to make it any easier for pursuers to follow them.

They trotted down the stairs to the ground level. Grimr ducked outside to take a quick look around while the other three waited inside. 

Nori pulled Ori aside. "Here, take this," she said, pulling a little leaf-shaped knife out of a hidden sheath built into her boot. The knife had a short, flat-ended handle that was meant to be held inside a closed fist.

She showed Ori how to hold the knife properly, with the base of the handle held in her fist and the short handle protruding between her second and third finger. "All you have to do is punch someone the way I showed you before, remember? The knife is just an extension of your fist. You got it?"

"I got it," Ori nodded, her eyes huge.

Yet another item to add to the long list of reasons why Dori was going to kill her after all this was over. But there was no way she was letting Ori go out there without any way to protect herself. "Don't do anything unless someone's about to grab you, all right? Otherwise, just stay out of the way as much as you can. We'll protect you." She helped Ori tuck the knife into her belt so that it would be easy to grab.

Straightening, she caught Dwalin's eye. He was looking at her with an odd expression, sort of searching. Nori suspected that he had noticed that her interaction with Ori was a little too affectionate for someone who supposedly had only met Ori once before.

Grimr ducked back inside. "We're clear. But there is one small wrinkle. The sell-swords met with a couple of men in Lord Skagi's livery outside of the building."

"That treacherous piece of... I knew I should have let you punch him," Nori told Dwalin. He crossed his arms, looking smug.

"I think it's safe to assume that the deal is officially off," Grimr said.

"Agreed," Nori said, thinking _Mahal's furry balls, can this job get any more screwed up? No, no, never ask that._ She exchanged a worried look with Grimr.

"My lady, why don't you walk with the little one?" Grimr suggested. "Any watchers will be less likely to notice two girls walking together when what they're looking for is one woman."

Nori took Ori's hand in hers and smiled down at her. "Let's go, sweet."

The walk from the apartment was nerve-wracking, but they made it down the block and around a corner without anyone noticing them. Nori didn't breathe easily until they were a good half-dozen blocks away from the apartment building. She steered them into a sheltered nook between two buildings.

"Where are we going?" Dwalin asked, his eyes roaming the street looking for threats.

"The East Gate," Nori said.

"The caravans?" Grimr gave Nori a sharp look.

She nodded. "I think it might be time to take Thorin Oakenshield's offer under consideration."

Grimr sucked in a breath through his teeth. Dwalin crossed his arms, watching her thoughtfully. Ori just looked confused.

"If that is what you think is best, my jewel," Grimr said. "I'll take the message to Thorin Oakenshield."

Nori nodded. "I need to meet with some old friends that I heard are in town. We'll meet you at the usual place by the East Gate later. Could you escort Ori to her home on the way?" She met Grimr's eyes, deliberately letting her trust in him show. Grimr was the only person from the criminal side of her life that she'd trust with her little sister's safety. 

He nodded solemnly. "I'll guard her with my life."

"What?" Ori protested.

"It's going to be safer for you not to be around me for a little while." Nori hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much in front of Dwalin. But it was probably too late to worry about that. "I'll come see you as soon as I can, I promise." 

"All right," Ori said reluctantly. "Be careful."

Nori gave her a hug and watched her walk away, escorted by Grimr. 

She flicked a glance to the side. Dwalin was staring at her, his arms crossed over his chest. She sighed. "I'm sure you have questions."

"Oh, do you imagine so, lass?"

Nori winced. "And I will answer them, once we deal with the current situation where people are trying to kill me."

"Fair enough," Dwalin nodded. "But after that, you're telling me everything."

"Of course," Nori said, lying through her teeth.

They walked to the area by the East Gate in silence, both of them watching the crowd for threats. 

The East Gate was the departure point for caravans leaving from the city. The Dwarves of Ered Luin engaged in extensive trade with the kingdoms of Men, exchanging precious metals, jewels, and the products of their crafts for spices, fabric, and a multitude of other goods. The East Gate was a constant bustle of ponies, cargo, and Dwarves. 

Nori cut through the crowd, nimbly dodging pony-drawn carts, with Dwalin following doggedly behind her. The Dwarves she was looking for tended to stay in the same area whenever they stopped in Ered Luin. 

Turning a corner, Nori spotted a very recognizable hat. "Bofur," she called when she drew close enough for him to hear her over the noise of the crowd.

"Mistress Knives!" Bofur called, grinning and waving her over to where he and his cousin Bifur stood. 

Dwalin muttered dubiously, "Mistress Knives?" Nori shrugged at him, smiling.

She clasped forearms with Bofur and they knocked heads together in affectionate greeting. Obviously, that was a bad idea with Bifur due to the orcish axe still lodged in his head. Nori simply clasped forearms with him.

 _It is good to see you, my friend_ , Bifur signed in rapid Iglishmek.

"And you as well," Nori said. "It has been too long."

Bifur looked puzzled that she'd responded in Khuzdul rather than signing back at him the way she normally would have. While he didn't have any problem understanding Westron or Khuzdul, she usually communicated with him in Iglishmek just to help keep herself fluent in it. The problem with doing that in front of Dwalin was that Nori's Iglishmek was liberally peppered with signs that came from thieves' cant. It would be entirely too easy to slip up and she was worried that Dwalin, as a guardsman, had been trained to recognize thieves' cant.

"Where's your brother?" Nori asked.

"Bombur's off doing some haggling over feed for the ponies," Bofur said. "He should be back soon."

"Bofur, Bifur, this is Dwalin. He's... a business associate of mine," Nori said.

Dwalin frowned. "We're engaged."

Nori's teeth ground together. "In a manner of speaking."

"Legally," Dwalin said.

"It's a long story," Nori said. She smiled tensely at Bofur and Bifur, who were watching the two of them like a particularly interesting practice bout.

"Well, that sounds like a fascinating tale," Bofur said, clapping his hands together. "Let's hear it over a mug or two of ale. Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to a nearby tavern.

 _A mug or six, he means,_ Bifur signed. Nori snorted.

"Nothing wrong with whetting your whistle when there's tales to be told!" Bofur winked at her.

Dwalin made a rumbling noise deep in his chest and rested a proprietary arm around Nori's waist. Nori resisted the urge to elbow him in the stomach. 

"It's not that interesting of a tale, really. But yes, let's have a seat somewhere a little more private. I have a business proposition that I think you'll be very interested in."

Bofur's smile widened. "Always happy to do business with you, Mistress Knives."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about Bifur: I'm guessing that he has developed a form of expressive aphasia due to his traumatic brain injury. Meaning that his understanding of language isn't at all damaged, but he has lost the ability to speak Westron and he sometimes has problems finding the right word in Khuzdul. His ability to express himself in Iglishmek is undamaged and so for the most part that is the language he communicates in.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nori is, well... Nori.

"So, let me get this straight... your _punishment_ is to be engaged to Our Lady of the Knives here?" The loud Dwarf in the ridiculous hat actually fell off his chair, he was laughing so hard.

"I will _stab your hat_ , Bofur," Lady Nezhka (if that was her real name) said, gesturing threateningly with her mug of ale. Her lips curled at the corners, giving the lie to her stern tone.

If that was her real name. Dwalin, though he'd willingly admit to not being as brilliant as his brother, was certainly not stupid. And the list of things that did not add up about her just kept growing. Newest on the list: the way she interacted with Balin's little apprentice Ori. It was definitely--yes, he would have to call it sisterly. And now that he thought about it, they even looked like each other. But there was no way that Ori was from the Orocarni Mountains.

"Oy, not the hat!" Bofur climbed back onto his chair and grabbed his mug, chugging the remainder of his ale. "If I don't have the hat, how will anyone recognize me?"

Bifur signed, almost too fast for Dwalin to catch, _How could they possibly miss you when you never stop talking?_

"He's got you there," Bombur said quietly. The large, red-haired Dwarf had joined them soon after they sat down. He didn't say much, seemingly content to laugh at his brother's antics.

"Oooh! Stabbed in the back by my own brother!" Bofur cried, clasping his hands over his heart.

Nezhka laughed, her eyes narrowing with amusement. She glanced over at Dwalin and whatever she saw on his face made her suddenly sober. Pitching her voice so that only the five of them at the table could hear it in the noisy tavern, she said, "Wonderful though it is to catch up with you, we do actually have some business to discuss."

"You said you have a proposition for us?" Bofur asked, leaning forward.

"First, do you have any set travel plans for the near future?" she asked.

"We just got back into Ered Luin a couple of days ago," Bofur said. "We were going to rest up a few weeks and build up our stock before we head out on the road again. We don't have any solid plans beyond that, no."

"How would you feel about going back on the road a bit sooner?"

Bofur shrugged. "Depends on where we'd be heading."

"The White Mountains," Nezha said.

Bofur sucked on his teeth, sitting back. "That's a bloody long journey. Dangerous too. The Dunlands are rotten with bandits."

Bifur signed with violent movements of his hands, _Orc territory near the Misty Mountains_.

Bofur nodded. "Bifur's right. If you skirt the Misty Mountains on the way south, that's nothing but Orc territory for hundreds of leagues."

"It is a long, dangerous journey," Nezhka agreed. "So, would enough money make it worth your while?" She leaned back in her chair, smiling. 

"How much money are we talking about?" Bofur asked.

"How much money can you imagine? Triple it."

Bofur whistled. "I can imagine a _lot_ of money."

"Are you interested?"

Bofur exchanged a look with his brother and their cousin. "We'd certainly consider it."

"Fantastic. I'll let my backers know."

Dwalin had had enough. "What are you doing?" he growled in her ear.

"Arranging for caravaneers," she said in an undertone.

"They're just wandering toymakers," Dwalin said. He scowled at Bofur and Bombur, who were currently holding a contest to see which one of them could drink a mug of ale the quickest.

"Wandering toymakers who spend a good three quarters of their lives on the road, traveling from settlement to settlement to sell their toys all across the Westlands. You could not ask for a better caravan team to travel with."

Dwalin was dubious. "Where did you even meet this lot?" 

Bofur thumped his empty mug down on the table. "Oh, that's a funny story involving a naked Dwarf, a pony-cart, and a load of--"

"I really don't think this is the time for that story," Nezhka interrupted.

"I'll just keep it under my hat," he said, tapping a finger against his nose and winking.

She groaned, shaking her head. "That joke doesn't get any funnier the more you use it. Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, it has been a pleasure to see you again. I'll get in touch with you in a few days, after I have a chance to meet with my backers."

They left after a tipsily enthusiastic round of goodbyes. Every time Bofur referred to Nezhka as "Mistress Knives," Dwalin's left eye twitched.

After they left the tavern, Dwalin pulled her aside into the first semi-private area he could find, a small courtyard. There was a fountain in the center that had gone dry years ago, judging by the buildup of trash in its bowl. They were alone in the courtyard except for a stray cat, though they could see the busy street through an archway.

"What?" she asked impatiently.

"What are you doing, hiring caravaneers and offering them a huge amount of gold without even checking with Thorin? He probably won't even want to hire your toymakers."

"So sorry, but--whose map is it?" She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head as if waiting for an answer, and then continued before he could say anything, "That's right. It's mine. Thorin Oakenshield may agree to fund this expedition, but when it comes down to it, it's my map and my key. And you're not getting anywhere without me."

Her green eyes sparkled with anger. After spending so long trying to imagine her face under the veil, he was fascinated by the way her mouth moved as she spoke. He didn't even realize that he was leaning over her until he felt the cold prickle of a knife under his jaw. Dwalin froze.

"Uh-uh, none of that. No kissing me to try to shut me up," she said, her eyes narrowed.

"What about kissing you because you're beautiful and I want to?" Dwalin asked. He thought it was a reasonable question.

"You--" She made an incoherent noise of frustration. The knife suddenly disappeared back into one of her arm sheaths. Grabbing onto his weapons harness where it crossed his chest, she pulled him down into a kiss. 

Clearly still angry, she kissed him hard, her tongue chasing his aggressively. He rumbled low in his chest and slid his hands around her back, one between her shoulder blades and the other in the sweet hollow of her back right above the line of her low-slung knife belt. She used her grip on his weapons harness to pull herself further up towards him.

Dwalin pulled away from the kiss reluctantly. Her eyes met his, vulnerable for a brief moment, and he had to ask.

"Who are you really, lass?"

Her eyes shuttered and she twisted away from him, retreating a few steps. Clearing her throat, she pushed a strand of hair out of her face where it had fallen free of her braid. "What do you mean?"

Dwalin resettled his weapons harness, pulled askew during the kiss. "I mean that you're not from the Orocarni." 

She raised an eyebrow scornfully. "What do you base that absurd accusation on?"

He started ticking points off on his fingers. "Little Ori looks like you and the two of you act like sisters. Bofur and his lot have clearly known you for a long time but they never once called you Lady Nezhka. And as for your supposed husbands, you treat the young one like a servant and don't seem particularly concerned that he's missing. You and the older one... I believe that you're close friends, but I don't believe that you're married."

She closed her eyes and sighed, turning away with her shoulders hunched. Dwalin waited. At last she turned around again, meeting his eyes.

"You're right," she said in a plain Blue Mountains accent. Dwalin felt chills run across his skin at how different she suddenly sounded. "I'm not from the Orocarni Mountains, and my name isn't Nezhka."

The question tore out of him. "Why did you pretend you were? Why the charade?"

"We're adventurers, treasure hunters. We find ancient ruins and we explore them and retrieve what artifacts we can find."

"You steal from the dead?" he demanded, appalled.

"I doubt that the dead are all that concerned about what happens to their knick-knacks after they're gone," she blasphemed blithely.

Dwalin crossed his arms over his chest and glowered.

"We discovered the key and the map and we knew they were a big deal, but Lord Skagi would never have met with two common treasure hunters. So we... came up with a good story," she shrugged, spreading out her hands.

"Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" he asked.

She wasn't, was she? She was planning on telling him that she was returning to the Orocarni Mountains and releasing him from his oath. And then she'd take Grigori--or whatever his real name was--and Ori, and disappear without a trace. And Dwalin would be left forever wondering where she was, if she was safe, if she was happy.

Her voice roughened as she said, "I told you that you didn't know me. I warned you."

"What's your name, lass? Your real name."

She met his eyes, looking stricken. Then her eyes slid to the side and he'd swear to Mahal that there was a flash of relief across her face as she said, "We've got company!"


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which ~~ninjas~~ sell-swords attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to add a "graphic violence" warning to the story, though it'll never get more intense than your average action movie.
> 
> Thank you to anaveryisme from Tumblr for betaing this chapter!

_Oh, thank Mahal. Sell-swords,_ Nori thought, unsheathing the knives that she carried at the small of her back. Anything would be better than continuing that conversation.

After Dwalin had asked her who she really was and laid out his reasoning for not believing her story anymore, she had taken a couple of seconds to come up with the most convincing explanation she could on short notice. Just enough truth woven through it to buttress up the lies. 

She and Grimr really had gone adventuring once or twice in the crumbling ruins of the ancient Dwarven fortress that modern-day Ered Luin was built over. It was fun, but the amount of profit garnered from it generally didn't justify the dangers of exploring crumbling, unstable tunnels inhabited by all manner of unfriendly creatures. They really had come up with the "Lady Nezhka" cover story because they knew that Lord Skagi wouldn't give them the time of day otherwise.

As for "finding" the map and key--all that Grimr had said about them was that they were so lightly guarded that the Mithril Hand was practically begging for them to be stolen, which could mean anything from "they were kept lightly guarded in some warehouse" to "they were kept locked in a vault under constant watch." This was Grimr, after all. 

It was a damned convincing story. The one thing she hadn't been prepared for was for Dwalin to ask for her real name. 

Ordinarily, Nori wouldn't even hesitate. She had a number of aliases that she liked to use and one of them had been on the tip of her tongue when she stopped. For some stupid reason, she actually wanted to tell him her real name.

Fortunately, sell-swords had chosen that moment to start pouring through the archway of the little courtyard they were standing in. Nori had never been more relieved to see a bunch of idiots that needed killing.

Nori's knives and Dwalin's axes made short work of the first two attackers, overconfident swordsmen in flashy armor. A skinny Dwarf with a shortsword went after Nori next. She ducked under his swing and sliced across his gut as she danced past him. 

Dwalin's style was to stay in one place while attackers came to him and then fell them with mighty blows of his axes. Nori's style was a little different. She danced in and out of the fight, keeping an eye out for anyone who thought that sneaking up on Dwalin's back was a good idea.

She dropped an axe-wielding Dwarf with a dagger to the throat and took a moment to assess the situation. There were only a couple of sell-swords left, both of them concentrating on Dwalin. 

Movement near the archway caught Nori's eye. A female Dwarf with a livid scar stretching across her face stood calmly watching the melee. Nori was furious to recognize the Dwarf standing next to the woman as Iakun. That certainly explained how they'd recognized her. That backstabbing little pissant.

The calm way that the woman observed the fight worried Nori. The only reason to stand back would be if it didn't matter whether these sell-swords succeeded.

Seeing that Dwalin had his remaining attackers well in hand, Nori darted toward the woman in the archway. A smile curved the woman's scarred mouth as she saw Nori coming. She stopped to whisper in Iakun's ear before disappearing back onto the street.

Nori launched herself after the woman, stiff-arming Iakun and shoving him aside as he attempted to get in her way. She reached the archway and looked around quickly, but the scarred woman had disappeared into the flow of traffic.

The whisper of movement behind her caused Nori to spin around. She caught a flash of Iakun raising his knife and stepped past him inside his guard and stabbed him, angling up under the ribcage. He fell to the ground, blood bubbling from the corner of his mouth.

Nori spared a glance to see how Dwalin was doing. He had taken down one of his attackers and was handling the remaining one easily. She dropped to her knees next to Iakun. "Who was that?" she demanded.

Iakun coughed up blood. "Screw you," he rasped. "And screw Grimr."

"What have you done?" she demanded, grabbing him by the shoulders.

He smiled lopsidedly. "You'll find out."

"What do you mean?" She shook him when he didn't answer. "What did that woman say?"

"She said--" He sucked in a noisy, bubbly breath. "Said to say "Hello, Nori."" His eyes rolled up in his head as he passed out. 

Nori dropped him, barely hearing his head thunk against the pavement stones. Dwalin loomed over her, apparently having finished the fight at some point during her interrogation of Iakun.

"Who's Nori?" Dwalin asked. "Is that you, lass?"

Nori looked up at him, wild-eyed. "If they know my name--oh Mahal. I have to get to Dori and Ori!"

The Mithril Hand might already have gotten to Dori's house, but perhaps they wouldn't expect Grimr to be there. Also, it was possible that they didn't know the shortcuts that Nori knew. If she ran, she might beat them.

Blood dripped off Dwalin's axes as he asked, "What's going on?"

"Try to keep up," she told Dwalin, and threw herself into a flat-out run. 

"Wait! Where are you going?" she heard him shout behind her.

Nori dodged pony-carts crossing the main road and then barrelled up the stairs to a second-floor walkway outside of an apartment building. She came to the end of the walkway and jumped over the edge onto the roof of a one-story building. She heard Dwalin cursing as he thudded onto the roof of the building behind her.

She ran across the roof, jumped to the exterior staircase of the next building, and climbed that staircase three stories to the roof. A couple of buildings over, a tenement had an access door on the roof that led to an interior flight of stairs. At the bottom of the stairs there was a disused entrance to the service tunnels under the city. 

She ran down the twisting maze of service tunnels, listening for Dwalin following her. She smirked a little as she heard him swearing breathlessly as he splashed into a puddle of something unmentionable.

The brief flash of amusement died quickly as she tried to figure out their next move. She refused to contemplate the possibility that Dori, Ori, and Grimr were not all right. If the Mithril Hand got to Dori's house first, Nori and Dwalin would save them. Then they would all need to disappear somehow. Ered Luin was no longer safe for any of them.

The service tunnels had an exit to the street about five blocks from Dori's house. Nori took the alleyway behind the dingy tenements and taverns of their neighborhood, watching for anyone who wasn't supposed to be here. She was honestly surprised that she hadn't lost Dwalin during the run through the tunnels. Advantage of his long legs, she supposed--he probably took two strides to every three of hers.

She spotted the homeless Dwarf who always slept behind the tavern with the kind-hearted cook. "Ho there, anyone been through here that don't belong?" Nori asked, twirling a silver coin between her fingers.

"I seen some bully boys go down the road that way not five minutes ago," he said. Nori nodded her thanks and tossed him the coin, then started running again.

She didn't see anything out of place at the back of the house. Their little gravel patch by the alleyway looked undisturbed. Nori gestured _Wait_ to Dwalin in Iglishmek. 

Nori crept up on the back of the house and checked the kitchen window. She heard the sound of a fight from inside--thumping and the breaking of what sounded like pottery, and cries of pain.

 _Mahal be merciful_ , Nori thought, and gestured for Dwalin to follow her to the door. 

She threw open the door and immediately rolled to the side, leaving Dwalin a clear path to the fighting. Nori sized up the situation with a quick glance.

Grimr was facing four attackers who looked to be both better equipped and better fighters than the sell-swords they faced earlier. As she watched, Dori cracked a broken table leg across the skull of one of her two attackers with brutal effectiveness. Ori, sweet darling Ori, was staying out of the fight like Nori told her to, flinging plates and bowls at their assailants whenever she could. There was no sign of the woman with the scarred face.

Dwalin waded into the fight with a roar, taking down an attacker with a single blow of his axe. Nori slid a knife into a swordsman's back and kept moving, using surprise to her advantage as she sliced the throat of another attacker before he'd even noticed there was anyone new in the fight. 

In a few short minutes the fight was over, their attackers dead or dying on the floor. The only one of the defenders who looked to have been hurt was Dwalin, who was casually binding a long bleeding slice on his forearm with a strip of cloth torn from his tunic.

Breathing hard, Dori dropped the table leg and took two steps to Ori, pulling her into a hug and then pushing back to hold her at arms length and inspect her. "Are you hurt? Did any of them touch you? I'll kill them!"

"Think they're already dead," Nori said, squatting next to a corpse and patting down its pockets quickly. Across the room from her, Grimr rucked up the tunic of a dead swordsman, exposing a tattoo above the corpse's heart.

"I'm all right," Ori reassured Dori tearfully. Dori hugged her again, smoothing her hand over Ori's hair.

Nori stood, not having found anything useful in the dead Dwarf's pockets. Finished binding his wound, Dwalin came over and stood at her back, close enough that she could feel his body heat. Nori caught herself before she could sway backwards into him, not sure where that impulse came from. 

Grimr stood from his inspection of the bodies, shaking his head. "They're Mithril Hand."

Dori rounded on Nori. "You! This is all your fault, isn't it? You brought this down on us!"

"Dori, I'm sorry--" Nori started. She felt Dwalin's body tense and put a hand on his wrist, gripping hard to try to communicate that he needed to stay out of it.

"No! None of your excuses! You put Ori in danger," Dori said. "I can't allow that. You have to leave, Nori."

Nori winced. "I understand you're angry, but you have to listen to me. We all need to leave right now. There are more of them coming and we're sitting ducks here."

Dori blanched and then turned red with fury. "I hate you. Mahal, I hate you so much."

"Yeah," Nori said softly. She hated herself too, for putting their little sister in danger. "I know."


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is tea and conversation.

After they left Nori and Dwalin, Grimr and Ori walked for several minutes in silence before the girl asked, "You're Nori's shield-brother, aren't you?" 

"Why do you think that?" Grimr asked.

"In the epics, all of the great heroes had shield-brothers who kept them safe in battle. I told Nori that I was worried about her getting into trouble without a shield-brother and she said she had someone who always watched her back." Ori regarded him with solemn eyes. "That's you, isn't it?"

"Well, I don't know about shield-brothers--I'm not a warrior, exactly--but yes, I always watch your sister's back. Whenever I can," he added, since there were times when he had to leave Ered Luin for a while on his own business and couldn't bring Nori along with him. 

Not to mention, Nori tended to become restless every decade or so and go wandering for a couple of years. She would always come back to Ered Luin eventually though, with a few more scars and a few more stories about the people she'd fucked and the things she'd stolen. The last time she had gone to the Southlands she'd come back with an addiction to that disgusting drink of hers, kava. What on earth was wrong with a good, strong cup of tea?

"Good. I worry about her," Ori said. She looked much more comfortable with his presence now. Grimr thought that Nori must have told her some carefully edited stories about their adventures together. "Dori worries too, but that just makes her yell and then they get into another argument. And then Nori disappears again."

"That sounds like Nori," Grimr said, shaking his head fondly.

Dori must be the older sister that Nori always complained about. For as long as Grimr and Nori had worked together, Nori had been scrupulous about keeping her personal life separate from her professional life. He had probably known her for a good twenty years before even learning that she had sisters, and today was the first time he'd actually met one of them. 

He'd actually thought that Nori was male for the first five years of their acquaintance. In his defense, her disguise as a boy had been incredibly convincing when she'd been a scrawny, underfed fifty-something.

"So how long have you known my sister?" Ori asked.

"Well, how old are you?" he asked, smiling down at her.

"Forty-nine," she answered proudly. 

Grimr chuckled to himself. "I met your sister when she was only a few years older than you." 

"Really?" Ori gave him a disbelieving look. Grimr wasn't sure if she was dubious about the fact that he'd known Nori that long, or that her older sister had ever been that young.

It was true that she'd never seemed as young as Ori did. Nori was already tough, almost feral in some ways, when she'd snuck her way into Grimr's hideout and informed him that she needed a partner on a heist and that she'd chosen him for the job.

Grimr remembered it vividly, all these years later. What he'd thought at the time was a boy too young to grow a beard sitting there cool as a stalactite, telling him that he'd checked out the competition and decided that Grimr was the best available. Grimr had gone along with it out of amusement at the sheer audacity of the little thing.

"Yes, believe it or not," he said.

Ori nodded, walking along for a few minutes in silence. Grimr kept an eye on the Dwarves they passed on the street, aware that the Mithril Hand wasn't just looking for Nori. He wasn't happy that Nori was in danger because of what he'd done, but there was risk involved in everything. He would just have to keep a closer eye on her and her family for a while.

Ori turned off the main road onto a crooked, narrow street with buildings that appeared increasingly run-down the further they went. "She's told me a lot of stories about your adventures together. Did you really go into the Undercity?"

Grimr nodded. "Yes we did, a few times in fact."

"What's it like? It's the ruins of Belegost, isn't it? Are there still a lot of parts of the ancient city intact?" 

"There is only a small portion of the city left intact, little one. Much of what is left is just crumbling ruins." They had found a few small items, but the ancient city of Belegost had been picked over thoroughly by scavengers over thousands of years. He knew that Nori loved exploring the ruins, even if she was disappointed by the scant haul they'd made. "And the parts that aren't ruined, you wouldn't want to go into. Crumbling ruins and territorial wildlife aren't nearly as dangerous as the criminal underground that thrives in the Undercity."

"Oh," Ori said, sounding disappointed. She pointed out, "There's the house. Dori must be home, there's lights on inside."

Grimr's eyes roamed over the street and the house as they drew nearer. No signs of anything out of place, no scuff marks in the neat gravel patch in front of the house. The house itself was small, worn-looking, but neat. The varnish on the door was thinning, but there was a luck-stone of Mahal standing proudly in the front window.

"Dori!" Ori yelled as she threw the door open. It banged against the interior wall and Grimr winced.

From inside the house, a voice shouted, "Ori! Stop banging that door every time you come in!"

Ori smiled up at Grimr and led him into the house. "Dori, I brought a friend of Nori's. Come meet him."

"A _friend_ of Nori's?" was repeated in a tone of deep suspicion. 

A vision of feminine Dwarven beauty appeared from a room at the back of the house, wiping her hands on her apron as she sized Grimr up. She had shining white hair coiled up in elaborate braids, a sturdy and generous figure, luxuriant whiskers, and a sharp look of wariness in her bright blue eyes. Grimr was, in a word, smitten.

Grimr swept her a bow deep enough to honor her without seeming excessive. "Grimr, at your service."

She bobbed a curtsy without taking her eyes off him. "Dori daughter of Kori, at yours. You're a _friend_ of Nori's?"

"He's her shield-brother, Dori, stop being so suspicious," Ori said, crossing her arms. She asked Grimr, "You're the one who kept Nori alive in the Grey Mountains that one time, right?"

 _Nori with her face white with pain, splashed with blood, holding her own flesh together and swearing at him to keep going, damn you._ Grimr nodded, not entirely sure what his expression looked like. "I was with her for that, yes."

"See?" Ori exclaimed. "That was when Nori got attacked by a Warg and almost bled to death and he carried her for _ten miles_ through the snow!"

"It was only a couple of miles, really," Grimr said.

"Well." Dori narrowed her eyes at him and seemed to come to a decision, nodding sharply. "Since you've kept our fool sister alive despite her best efforts to get herself killed, you may join us for tea."

"Tea would be absolutely lovely, Mistress Dori," he said with his most charming smile. 

"You can just drop that nonsense right now," she sniffed. "I am entirely too old to be charmed by a flirty smile and a pair of big blue eyes."

"On the contrary, I would say that you are the perfect age."

She rolled her eyes, her cheeks going slightly pink. "Oh, go on now."

Tea stretched into the late afternoon as they discovered a mutual love for the exotic varieties of tea which were brought to Ered Luin on caravans from the far East. Dori discovered that Grimr had never tried one of her most prized varieties of tea and insisted that he stay and try it. Ori wasn't as enthusiastic about the tea, but she sat with them at the table and happily worked on sketching with charcoal and scraps of paper. 

"Of course, the proper steeping temperature for green tea--" Dori paused, cocking her head to the side at the same time as Grimr noticed a scraping noise from outside the house. 

Grimr stood and unsheathed his swords. "Mistress Dori, I believe we may be about to have some unwelcome company."

"What? Who? This is Nori's fault, isn't it?" Dori scowled, pulling Ori to her feet and pushing her behind her.

"In all fairness, you should really blame me more than Nori," Grimr said, and then the front door crashed open and half a dozen sell-swords poured into the house. 

After the fight was over and their assailants dead or bleeding out on the floor, Grimr checked the corpses for tattoos, not at all surprised when he found what he was looking for. These weren't common sell-swords--these were foot soldiers for the Mithril Hand.

He stayed out of the argument between the older sisters, hoping that Dwalin would have the sense to do so as well. As much as Grimr adored Nori and was smitten with Dori, he was also well aware that if either of the men tried to butt into the argument he'd be lucky to draw back a bloody stump. The Ri women were nothing if not fierce.

Muttering angrily, Dori stomped upstairs to gather her belongings, followed by a quiet and shaken-looking Ori. Nori knelt next to the broken pieces of the kitchen table, picking up the scraps of paper Ori had been drawing on.

"Guardsman Dwalin, could you watch the street?" Grimr asked. Dwalin hesitated, glancing at Nori, who was ignoring both of them. Grimr caught his eye and signed in Iglishmek, _Give us a few minutes._

The guardsman, proving that he was not as dumb as Grimr had worried he was, glanced at Nori again and then nodded sharply, stepping outside the broken front door. Hmm, maybe there was a slight chance that Dwalin might prove himself worthy of Nori's affections after all.

Grimr knelt next to Nori and helped her pick up paper, taking the bundle from her and straightening the pages out.

"She hates me," Nori muttered, her head bowed as she concentrated on flattening a crumpled piece of paper without smearing the charcoal lines. 

"She doesn't hate you. She loves you. She wouldn't be as angry with you if she didn't," Grimr said, gently tugging the drawing out of Nori's hands.

"This is all my fault." Nori sighed and sat with her back to the wall, her arms dangling over her drawn-up knees. Grimr sat next to her with his legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles.

"Strictly speaking, this is all my fault," Grimr pointed out, nudging her with his shoulder. "I am the one who stole the map and key from the Mithril Hand."

"Yes, but if you'd come to me beforehand and told me what you were planning? It's not like I would have said no," Nori said. "I would have been right there with you."

"Let's agree to blame this all on the Mithril Hand for being sore losers, shall we?"

She snorted, her shoulders relaxing. "That's right, the Mithril Hand: dangerous crime syndicate _and_ notoriously sore losers."

"Also, they're shit houseguests," Grimr said, gesturing at the mess they'd left of the lower floor of the house. "Leaving their corpses everywhere, those filthy bastards."

Nori laughed, shaking her head. Sobering quickly, she said, "Dwalin figured out I wasn't Lady Nezhka. I told him we were treasure hunters who happened across the map and key, and that we pretended I was an Orocarni lady to get an audience with Lord Skagi. He bought it, but what about Thorin Oakenshield?" 

Nori's voice was going high and tight, her fists clenched on her knees. "He's not going to risk that much money on an expedition with two down-at-their-heels adventurers. Not to mention, what am I going to do about Dori and Ori? I can't leave them here, not with the Mithril Hand knowing who they are. They'll kill my sisters just to get to me."

"Breathe," Grimr said, putting his arm around Nori's shoulders. "We will deal with it, all right? I have a plan. Trust me."

"You and your plans," she said, shaking her head. Nori sighed. "Very well, we'll do it--"

Dwalin burst back into the house. "We've got incoming about three blocks out. We have to get out of here _now_."


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally find out what Dwalin thinks about all this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to SorchaCahill for looking this chapter over!

Even if the similar names hadn't made it clear, the way that Nori and Dori fought would have made it completely obvious that they were sisters. Dori looked almost nothing like Nori and Ori, but no one fought that bitterly except kin. 

Though Nori's hand squeezing his wrist told him to stay out of it, Dwalin almost stepped in when her older sister declared how much she hated her. 

The defeat in her voice when she said, "Yeah, I know," made Dwalin want to slide his arms around her waist and hold her tight. Except that with the anger and tension she was currently radiating, he gave it about a fifty-fifty chance that Nezhka would knife him for trying it.

Wait. Not Nezhka. _Nori_ , he reminded himself.

After her sisters disappeared upstairs to pack up their belongings, Nori knelt on the floor in the kitchen, picking up scraps of paper that must have scattered when the table had been broken. Dwalin hesitated, not sure if she would welcome his help. It was actually kind of a relief when Grigori (or rather Grimr, he'd heard Nori call him that during the fight) asked him to go outside and watch the street.

Except that watching the street left Dwalin with entirely too much time to think.

It felt like this day had been about a month long. First he saw Nezhka's--Nori's--face for the first time. Then there was the meeting at the tavern with Bofur and his kin where Dwalin's suspicions about Nezhka's story had become too strong to ignore any longer. Then the confrontation in the courtyard where she admitted that she wasn't an Orocarni noblewoman at all. She was just an adventurer. Someone who stole from the dead.

It wasn't exactly illegal, not as long as it was an ancient ruin or burial site. Anything from the First or Second Age was considered old enough that taking items from it wasn't against the law. But it was wrong, Dwalin thought, stealing from the dead.

Then again, he'd been willing to accept her when he'd thought that Nezhka might be an Orocarni spy, so Dwalin wasn't entirely sure he could judge Nori for being an adventurer without being a complete hypocrite.

The fact that she'd lied to him, though--lied repeatedly, even. How could he forgive that? Dwalin thought that maybe he couldn't, but then he thought about never holding her in his arms again, and he felt like his stomach was sinking into the floor.

Fuck. Maybe if he was lucky they would be attacked by sell-swords again and he could stop thinking for a while.

Speaking of which, he spotted some ominous-looking movement on the street several blocks away. Dwalin ducked back inside the house to warn the others, feeling an irrational flare of jealousy at the sight of Grimr's arm around Nori's shoulders. "We've got incoming about three blocks out. We have to get out of here _now_."

"Dori! Ori! Come on!" Nori shouted. Standing, she turned to Grimr and asked, "All right, old man, what's this amazing plan of yours?"

"We go to Thorin Oakenshield and we tell him everything," he said, climbing to his feet.

"That's your brilliant plan?" Nori asked.

"Trust me," Grimr said.

Dwalin frowned, wondering what was going on. He was going to keep an eye on the older Dwarf. Something about Grimr struck him as suspicious.

Dori and Ori clattered down the stairs, both carrying heavy backpacks.

"I can carry that for you," Dwalin said, gesturing for Ori to hand him her backpack. She handed it to him with a shy nod of thanks. Ori then immediately dived for a pile of papers sitting on an end table, clutching the pages to her chest as if they were made of gold.

Settling her backpack straps on her shoulders, Dori told Grimr, "Don't even think about it."

Smiling, he raised his hands in surrender. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Let's go," Nori said. Moving quickly and quietly, they left the house by the back door and cautiously headed down the alleyway. They were about a block away from the house when the sound of angry shouting reached them.

"Run!" Dwalin snarled. Their feet pounded on the pavement stones as they raced to the entrance of the tunnels.

Nori finally signaled a stop after several twisting turns in the dark, damp tunnels, lit only by unevenly-spaced ventilation and drainage shafts to the street above. It was hard to see anything in the gloom even with superior Dwarven vision in the dark.

"Where are we going?" Dori demanded.

"Someplace safe," Nori said, and refused to say anything further despite Dori's insistent questioning.

***

"You brought us to the _King's_ house?" Dori demanded.

"He's not a king," Nori muttered. (Dwalin's back stiffened at the insult.) More loudly, she said, "Yes, I brought us to Thorin Oakenshield's house."

"We can't just invite ourselves over--"

"We're not," Nori interrupted. "He's expecting us. Admittedly, maybe not right now."

Indeed, when Balin answered the door his eyes widened only briefly upon seeing the group gathered on his doorstep. "Evening brother, Mistress Dori, Miss Ori, Lady… Nezhka?"

"It's a long story," Nori said. "And I assure you that we will tell it to you in full, but we have been attacked twice today and should not stay out on the street any longer than necessary."

"Attacked?" Balin asked, ushering them in. "By whom?"

Thorin walked into the entryway accompanied by Dis. "Did I hear correctly that you were attacked?" He did a double-take at noticing that Nori's face was unveiled. 

"Twice," Dwalin reported. "Once on the street and once at Mistress Dori's house."

Dori curtseyed low. "Your Majesty."

"Please, call me Thorin. We do not stand on ceremony here," he said.

Dori looked flustered as she straightened back up. "Of course, my lord. I mean, Thorin."

"I do hope that no one was injured," Dis said.

Dwalin shook his head. "A scratch only."

"What happened?" Thorin asked. "Who attacked you?"

"Brother, they're exhausted," Dis said, laying a hand on Thorin's arm. "Let them rest before you interrogate them."

"Of course," Thorin said, nodding graciously. "Rest yourselves. We will discuss business after dinner."

Nori and Grimr exchanged a look. "If we're going to discuss the expedition later, I'd like to suggest inviting the caravaneers I've talked to about hiring them for the journey," Nori said.

"I can tell we'll have much to discuss later, my lady. But yes, if you have caravaneers lined up then we should invite them as well. Fili! Kili!" he shouted up the stairs.

Fili and Kili appeared quickly enough that they must have been eavesdropping. "Yes, Uncle?" Fili asked.

"I need you to make yourselves useful and run a message for us." Thorin made the boys repeat the message and the address they were to take it to until he was satisfied they had it memorized. "Go on now. Don't stop for ale!" he shouted as they piled out the door like a couple of excited puppies. 

"Follow me," Dis said. "We have guest rooms where you can wash up and relax for a bit. You needn't sleep on the hearth," she added with a wink at Dwalin.

He snorted. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Not a chance," she said, grinning.

Dis and Thorin's house was not luxurious by any means, but it was large enough to host guests. It had to be, since from time to time they provided a place to stay for visiting representatives of the scattered Dwarves of Erebor. The night that Dwalin had slept on the hearth hadn't been necessitated by any lack of extra beds. Instead, it had simply been the result of passing out where he stood. 

They were quickly settled into guest rooms. Dwalin took the opportunity to clean and oil Grasper and Keeper and wipe the tacky, drying blood off of his leathers. He also gave himself a quick wipe-down with a basin of water and a washcloth, since Dis had a strict rule against sitting at the dinner table while still smelling like a battlefield. 

Cleaned up enough to be presentable and hungry enough to eat a warg, Dwalin decided to go downstairs to forage some food out of the kitchen before dinner.

As he opened his door, the door across the hallway opened. Nezhka--Nori--stood framed in the doorway. Freed from its braid, her hair flowed down to her hips like a river of fire. 

"Dwalin," she said, her hand freezing in the motion of pushing her hair back from her face.

Arms crossed, Dwalin leaned against his door frame. "Lady Nezhka."

She tilted her head to the side, acknowledging the hit. "There were good reasons for the pretense, believe me."

"Were there?" Dwalin nodded thoughtfully. "Did they justify binding me to your service for ten years?"

"I was always planning on freeing you from your oath when we were done with the map," she snapped, stalking towards him.

"And then you'd disappear forever with your piles of gold?" Dwalin asked.

Nori glared up at him, not at all intimidated by the six-inch height difference. "You'd be free, what does it matter to you?"

"You don't care at all about what I told you last night, do you?" Dwalin demanded, straightening up from his pretend-casual slouch. Nori refused to back up an inch, leaving them standing with barely a whisker of space between their bodies. 

"Tell me, _Nori_ , was there anything real about Nezhka at all?" The end of that sentence didn't come out quite as strongly as Dwalin had intended.

Nori flinched, just a tiny bit, but Dwalin saw it. He'd hurt her. "Nothing about her was real," she snarled quietly.

Dwalin thought that just maybe, for once, he understood something of what was going on in her head. "I think you're lying again, lass," Dwalin breathed. "I think that Nezhka was a lot more _you_ than you want to admit."

"You don't know me."

"Oh, I think I'm starting to. And I think that you're afraid--"

She growled and launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, her hands gripping his shoulders and her tongue down his throat. With a sudden armful of Nori, Dwalin did the only reasonable thing that he could. He fumbled his way back into his bedroom while kissing her, closed the door, and then kept kissing her as he pinned her against the wall next to the door.

She moaned, burying one hand in his hair while gripping the back of his tunic with her other hand. He unbuttoned the top buttons of her tunic and bent his head to kiss the center of her chest, breathing in her scent as he nudged the thick fabric aside with his chin to reveal the soft swell of her breast. He could just barely see the rose-brown of her nipple through her linen shirt.

Dwalin kissed the top curve of her breast through the thin fabric. Encouraged by her hand fisting at the back of his neck and tugging, he kissed his way down her breast. He opened his mouth and breathed a hot puff of air over her breast, then closed his lips around the stiff peak of her nipple and sucked.

"Ah!" Nori cried out, her hands spasming. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist and _writhed_ , the soft heat of her center rubbing against his cock maddeningly through layers of fabric.

He slid his hands under her ass to support her weight better, the tips of his fingers resting dangerously close to forbidden territory. He half-expected to get shoved away for his presumption. Instead she groaned and twisted her hips so that his daring almost-touch became a full-on grope.

He stroked blunt fingers over her cunt, feeling the spot of dampness on the fabric of her trousers grow. He pressed his fingers between the soft folds as best he could at such a bad angle, and with her fully dressed. 

Dwalin let her nipple go with one final nibble and kissed up her neck, growling into her ear, "I'm going to carry you to my bed, tear your clothes off, and see how many times I can bring you to your peak, lass."

He heard her swallow hard. "Fuck, ye--" 

A loud knocking at the door interrupted her.

"Nori? Are you in there?" Dori called. 

"Fuck," Nori said with feeling. 

Dwalin thunked his head against the wall. "You've got to be joking."

The door handle started turning. "Mahal, Dori, give me a second to put some clothes on!" Nori called, wriggling out of Dwalin's arms. Leaning her back against the door, she quickly straightened her shirt and buttoned her tunic.

She gestured for Dwalin to move away so that her sister wouldn't see him when she opened the door.

Dwalin didn't move. _We are finishing this conversation later_ , he signed.

 _Conversation?_ Nori signed with a skeptically raised eyebrow. She ran a hand through her mussed hair and huffed out a breath, signing, _Agreed. Get back._

He nodded and moved away from the door. 

Opening the door just enough to exit, Nori immediately shut the door behind her. "What's the rush?" he heard her ask, muffled through the door.

"Everyone is gathering downstairs for dinner in a few minutes," Dori said. "You are not going to be late for dinner with the King."

"Fine, let's go."

Her voice growing fainter as they walked away, Dori asked, "Weren't you staying in the other room?"


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thorin and Dis host an unexpected dinner party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to SorchaCahill for beta-reading!

"Weren't you staying in the other room?" Dori asked.

"I was, but I didn't like the placement of the window," Nori lied. She could still feel the imprint of Dwalin's hands on her body, the damp patch on her shirt over her nipple, and the slow curl of heat in her lower belly. She hoped that Dori either wouldn't notice the redness of Nori's face or, if she did, would assume it was due to Nori being annoyed with her.

Dori rolled her eyes but seemed resigned to Nori's tendency to use windows as entrances and exits. "Your hair is a mess. You haven't braided it at all, and we're going to be dining with the King!"

"He can't be a king if he doesn't have a kingdom," Nori muttered. Dori ignored her. 

"Come here," she said, pulling Nori into the bedroom that she and Ori shared. "Sit down in front of the mirror. I'm just going to have to braid your hair quickly so you don't embarrass our house. For pity's sake, Ori's hair looks neater than yours!"

Ori, sitting on one of the beds with her drawings spread out around her, gave Nori a look of sympathy.

Nori glared at Dori in the mirror. "One braid, Dori. One. Braid."

"Your hair would look so lovely if you just put a little effort into it." Dori ran her fingers through Nori's hair, looking at it critically. "How about dividing it into six braids and joining them in a knot at the nape of your neck?"

"How about I go to dinner with Thorin Oakenshield with my hair unbraided and dressed like a boy, how would you like that?"

"I don't think so," Dori said flatly. "I brought along a couple of your dresses, and you can change into one as soon as I'm done with your hair." She sighed and asked, "Will you at least let me do something a little nicer-looking than just one braid?"

"All right, fine," Nori said.

"At least you don't have your hair up in that ridiculous three-peaked style," Dori sniffed. 

"There's nothing wrong with that style. It's unique," Nori said. 

Dori made a disparaging noise. "Did you dye your hair darker red?"

"Let it go, Dori."

They compromised on two braids running from Nori's temples, looping down in front of her ears, and gathered at the crown of her head with one of Dori's spare hair clasps. Dori gathered the bulk of Nori's hair back into one braid, though she insisted on doing a five-strand braid because Nori's usual three-strand braid was "so terribly boring."

Nori relaxed into the feeling of her sister's hands working with her hair. They hadn't mentioned what Dori had said to her at the house. Nori knew that her sister would probably never openly apologize for her words, but the gentleness with which Dori braided her hair was in its own way an apology.

Now she and Grimr just had to convince Thorin Oakenshield that despite the fact that they'd lied to him about their identities, he should trust them enough to fund an expedition halfway across Middle Earth. At least the map and key had been confirmed to be genuinely ancient, thanks to Balin's knowledge of ancient Cirth and Dis's stone-sense. Still, it was going to take a lot of smooth talking to convince Thorin Oakenshield. Nori hoped to Mahal that Grimr had a good plan this time.

After Dori finished with her braids, Nori dressed in a dark green gown with a deep, square neckline. She endured a few more seconds of Dori's primping before asking innocently, "Aren't we going to be late to dinner?"

Dori's eyes widened. "Oh, dear... come on now, we can't be late!"

As Dori bustled down the hallway, Nori dropped back to walk next to Ori. "Are you all right, Ori?"

"Yes, just a little bit..." Ori trailed off and shrugged.

"Shaken?" Nori asked, putting her arm around Ori's shoulder as they walked. "There's no shame to that, little jewel. You did well, staying back from the fight and throwing things. Maybe we can get you a sling to use. How would you like that?"

"I think I'd like a sling. Something where I can stay back a little," Ori said. After a moment, she asked, "Is it always like that?"

"Always like what?" Nori asked, pausing with Ori at the top of the stairs.

"Terrifying," she said quietly, her shoulders hunched. "It didn't sound so scary when you were telling your stories."

"Oh, sweetheart," Nori said, hugging her little sister. "I get scared too. Anyone who isn't at least a little frightened during a battle is an idiot."

Ori buried her head in the crook of Nori's neck, holding onto her tightly. Nori could see Dori waiting at the foot of the stairs, her eyebrows crinkled in worry as she looked up at them. 

After a few minutes, Ori took a deep, shuddering breath, pushing away from Nori. "I'm all right," she said, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. Nori gently knocked foreheads with her and then gave Ori a light push to start her moving again.

Nori stood at the top of the stairs, watching Ori join Dori at the bottom of the stairs. Dori tucked Ori against her side as they walked down the downstairs corridor together.

Hearing heavy footsteps coming down the corridor, Nori turned to see Dwalin walking towards her. She tried to ignore the shiver of returning arousal in her belly.

"You're a good sister," Dwalin said, joining her at the top of the stairs.

Nori made a face at him. "Don't sound so surprised."

"I'm not surprised, lass," he said. "Just making an observation."

Whatever she might have said in reply was lost to the banging sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut. Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, Fili, and Kili huddled together in the entryway looking much the worse for wear. Bombur had a bruise coming up on his forehead and Kili had what looked like blood smeared across the lower half of his face.

Dis rushed into the entryway from the downstairs corridor, followed by Thorin, Balin, Dori, and Ori. "Fili! Kili! What happened?"

"Please tell me you didn't get into another bar fight," Thorin said.

"It wasn't our fault this time!" Kili protested. "There was a, a--" He paused, looking unsure.

"A riot," Fili said. "Yes, I would definitely have to call that a riot."

"A riot?" Thorin repeated with raised eyebrows. "Surely you're exaggerating."

Kili shook his head emphatically. "They were throwing things and yelling stuff about Ereborean refugees. We tried to go around them, but we ran into a little trouble. Nothing we couldn't handle."

Dis grabbed Kili's chin and turned his face from side to side, examining him. "Are you injured?"

"Mam!" Kili protested. "I'm fine. It's not even my blood. I headbutted someone."

Fili nodded proudly. "He broke the bastard's nose, too!"

Released from his mother's hold once Dis was satisfied that the blood wasn't his, Kili announced, "We brought back the caravaneers."

Bofur and his kin had been standing back, watching. Now Bofur stepped forward and bowed. "Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur, at your service," he said, gesturing to his brother and cousin.

"Thorin Oakenshield, at yours," Thorin said with a gracious nod. "I hope that you were not injured?"

"It's nothing to worry about, my lord," Bombur said quietly, ducking his head.

"Come then, let us sit down together," Thorin said. "We will discuss business after dinner."

Nori started down the stairs, intending to follow the rest of the group into the dining room. Dwalin's voice calling her name stopped her a few steps down. "Yes?" she asked, looking up at him.

Dwalin paused, seeming to gather his thoughts, and then said, "Deal squarely with Thorin. He appreciates honesty more than clever words."

Nori nodded slowly. "I thank you for the advice. Come, we should not be late or Dori will have a conniption."

She paused at the bottom of the stairs for Dwalin, amused when he automatically raised his arm so that she could rest her hand on it like a proper lady. It reminded her of the night they'd gone to the feast together. She was a little sad that the tunic she had commissioned for him had been lost along with everything else they'd left at Lord Skagi's guest apartment. There had been something strangely satisfying about seeing Dwalin dressed in her colors.

The others had already sat down by the time that they reached the dining room. Grimr had saved a seat beside him for Nori. Dwalin claimed the seat on the other side of her by the simple expedient of shoving a chair into the space between her chair and Bofur's. _Subtle,_ Nori thought, hiding a smile.

"Evening, mistress!" Bofur greeted her cheerfully once they were seated, leaning forward around Dwalin to grin at her.

"Bofur," she said, leaning forward and subtly elbowing Dwalin so that he'd stop trying to block their line of sight. "Glad you and your kin could make it. I understand that you ran into some trouble?"

"Buncha idiots yelling about how Ereboreans need to go back to their mountain. To what, get roasted by a dragon? All due respect, but that just don't seem sensible to me." Bofur shook his head. "But me and the boys, and the young princes, showed them what for."

"That we did," Fili agreed from across the table, raising a tankard. "Those gravel-for-brains won't be messing with the Dwarves of Erebor any time soon!"

"I'll drink to that!" Kili cheered, raising his tankard as well.

That led to a round of the group cheering and draining their tankards, which led naturally to another round of ale, and then another. Nori hoped that Lady Dis had been prepared for her larder to be stripped bare. A group of thirteen dwarves could eat and drink a truly astonishing amount if they put their minds to it.

Once the table laden with food was reduced to empty plates and scraps, Thorin said, "Now, let us talk business. Lady Nezhka, I believe you said that you had a story to share with us." 

Nori took a deep breath. Show time. 

She stood, leaning her hands on the table, and looked around at the gathered Dwarves. "First, you should know that my name is not Nezhka. I am named Nori and this is my business partner Grimr. We are not Orocarni nobles--we are adventurers."

The table erupted into noise, Dwarves standing and shouting at each other in a chaotic din. Nori couldn't catch half of what was being shouted. She caught that Balin was demanding to know what this nonsense was about, Dis was telling everyone to shut up and sit down, Fili and Kili were angry that they had been lied to, and Dwalin, somewhat surprisingly, was telling them to watch their mouths.

Thorin stood and roared, "Silence!"

Everyone sat down quietly. Nori stared at Thorin, impressed.

Calmly, Thorin sat down again. "Explain yourselves," he said.

Grimr stood before Nori could speak. "If you wish to know the full truth of the matter, that is something that I alone can explain. For I have not shared all the details with anyone, not even with my partner Nori. I would beg of you your patience, for it is a story that began long, long ago..." As he spoke, the lights in the room appeared to grow dim except for a single island of light around Grimr. 

_How the hell is he doing that?_ Nori wondered, trying to look around discreetly. She didn't see anything obvious that would explain the lighting change. Nice trick.

"Over two thousand years ago, Hrathi Stonefist ruled a kingdom of legendary wealth and prosperity, reaching from the western spur of the White Mountains north to the Greyflood. It is said that the fate of his kingdom was forged upon the day that the king defeated a great silver dragon, a fire-drake, and bent it to his will. Hrathi Stonefist's forces swept brutally across the southern plains of Arnor from his mountain city, Dracadelf. None dared stand against Hrathi for fear of the dragon that protected the King."

The room was silent, the Dwarves absolutely spellbound by the tale Grimr masterfully wove.

"Hrathi Stonefist ruled southern Arnor for over a century. It is said that the dragon loved Hrathi, if a terrible creature such as a dragon can be said to love anything besides gold, for upon the death of the king the dragon went berserk. It destroyed the city of Dracadelf from within, killing countless Dwarves as they attempted to flee the destruction."

Nori happened to glance at Thorin during that point in the story and even in the dim light could see that he looked tense and deathly pale. Balin, sitting next to him, looked similarly caught up in old, terrible memories.

How old had Dwalin been when they fled Erebor? He probably would have been old enough to serve in the guard. Nori shifted over about half an inch in her chair and leaned her shoulder subtly against Dwalin's, feeling the rock-hard tension in his arm relax slightly at the contact.

"The few surviving Dwarves of the city of Dracadelf locked the front gates behind them as they fled. They destroyed the keys to the gate so that no one would be tempted to venture into the city and unwittingly free the dragon. Over the millennia, the location of the city of Dracadelf has been lost to history. But few things wish to remain hidden forever. There has long been rumored to be a map and key to the lost city."

"I retrieved the map and key from the hands of those who would have used Hrathi Stonefist's treasure for evil purposes. Even now the Mithril Hand pursues us. Unless a true king can claim the lost kingdom, I fear that the Mithril Hand will not rest until they possess the treasure of Dracadelf for their own. That is why Nori and I have brought the map and key to you, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thor."

Nori had known that the old Dwarf was a master bullshitter, but this was beyond anything she'd seen from him before. If they pulled this off, this would be a truly legendary con.

"A lovely story," Thorin said. The shadows seemed to recede from the room. Nori saw Fili and Kili blink and shake their heads as if waking from a dream. "But what proof do we have of any of this? The map and key appear to be genuine, aye, but you and your partner are adventurers at best, thieves at worst. Why should I believe a word you say when so many of your words have been lies? Why should I work with either of you instead of throwing you out on the street?"

"Everything I have done has been in the service of protecting the people of Middle Earth from an evil greater than you can possibly imagine," Grimr said. His voice grew louder as the shadows clustered thickly around him. Grimr actually seemed to become taller, looming over the room. "Yes, we have been adventurers, liars, and thieves in our time, but I should like to see any of you do a better job of protecting all of Middle Earth with no bloody funding!"

With a clap of thunder, the shadows fled from the room and all those present felt a terrible tension lift from them, like a boulder being lifted from their chests.

Grimr sat down and folded his hands. "Convinced? Or shall I perform more parlor tricks?" 

Bofur was the first to break the silence. Eyes wide, he breathed reverently, "Well, fuck me. You're a wizard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter could also be subtitled "In which Sister Wolf messes about with canon even more." In canon, there were two Blue Wizards, who looked like Men, just as Gandalf, Saruman, and Radagast did. The Blue Wizards traveled far to the East where they either fell to Sauron's power or were instrumental in defeating him (Tolkien appeared to change his mind about that.)
> 
> I figured, I've already made three male characters female, why not make a Blue Wizard a Dwarf? *g*


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which accidental marriages are discussed, Nori and Dwalin have it out, and the rating goes up to explicit.

After all the shouting was done, Dwalin left Thorin arguing with Dis about the relative safety of bringing her sons on an expedition to an unknown Dwarven city with a possible dragon versus leaving them to stay in a familiar Dwarven city with verified riots. He could tell they'd be arguing over that one for a while.

Dwalin knocked on the door of the room that he'd originally been assigned, guessing that Nori would be in there. 

Nori opened the door but leaned against the doorframe, not inviting him in. "Yes?" she asked.

"Could you come downstairs? We have a few things we need to discuss. I mean, actually discuss. Balin is waiting for us."

And hadn't that been a fun little conversation. ("Well brother, she isn't rich, but she is young and not unattractive. Plus, she's partners with a wizard. You could do worse for yourself.") Dwalin was sure Balin would have more to add on the subject later.

"All right," she said, sighing. "Might as well get this over with."

Balin was waiting for them downstairs in a small drawing room, sitting at a desk and carefully writing something in his neat, ornate handwriting. "Ah, brother, and Lady Nori," he said, putting his quill in its stand.

Nori snorted. "I'm really not a lady."

"Well, that is the crux of the matter which we need to discuss this evening. The question that needs to be answered is, is the judgement that I handed down for Dwalin's gross insult against Lady Nezhka's person still valid if Lady Nezhka doesn't exist?"

Balin paused for a few minutes, seemingly deep in thought. At last, Nori prompted, "Well, is it?"

"What you must understand is that the judgement I handed down in the Courts of Law was for a clear-cut case with an unambiguous precedent. That is the only reason I did not recuse myself for possible bias as the brother of the defendant. However, the situation is now rather more complicated. You, Nori, are not Lady Nezhka. Therefore, the laws of the Orocarni regarding unwanted physical contact with an Orocarni lady do not apply."

"However, Dwalin did put his hands on you when he had not been invited to do so. Though the laws of Ered Luin are less strict--in other words, he certainly wouldn't be put to death for such a crime--it is still a crime under our laws." Balin paused, no doubt reading the frustration on Dwalin's face. "Forgive me, I do tend to ramble on. Simply stated, I must recuse myself for possible bias without an absolutely clear precedent to follow."

"So, what does that mean?" Dwalin asked. "Are we still engaged?"

Balin tilted his head to the side and made a dubious face. "Yes and no."

"I have a simple solution to the problem," Nori said. "Your original ruling said that Dwalin was bound to my service for ten years, or until we consummated the marriage, or until I released him from his vow. I, Nori daughter of Kori, release you, Dwalin, son of Fundin, from my service. Done."

Balin stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Yes, I suppose that would do it, whether or not Dwalin was still legally bound to your service. The bond is dissolved."

Dwalin glared down at his hands, though he didn't entirely understand himself why he was so upset.

Balin looked at both of them and smiled gently. "I'll leave you two alone," he said. As he left the drawing room, he closed the door behind him.

Nori grinned at Dwalin, spreading her hands out. "Well, you're free," she said. "No longer bound to an adventurer, liar, and thief."

"What if I don't want to be?"

"...Free?" Nori asked, her smile disappearing.

"That's right. You freed me from my oath without asking if that was what I wanted." Dwalin was starting to get a handle on why he was feeling so upset.

"I..." She shook her head. "I can't believe that I'm apologizing to you for giving your freedom back. But, errr, sorry?"

"I refuse. I am still at your service," Dwalin said.

"Uh, no," she said, backing away. "You're not."

Dwalin held his hands up in front of him, wrists bared. "I, Dwalin son of Fundin, bind myself to--"

"Wait!" Nori interrupted. "Wait. Before you go any further, let me say something."

Dwalin nodded for her to go on.

"I absolutely guarantee that I can say one sentence to you that will make you take that oath back before you can complete it."

"I very much doubt that." Dwalin was no callow youth, that his devotion could be so easily dissolved.

"All right, just--turn around for a few minutes. I need to destroy my sister's painstaking work with my hair. I told her she should just have put it in a single braid," she muttered as Dwalin turned around.

Dwalin crossed to the sofa in front of the fireplace and sat down, enjoying the warmth of the flames against the slight chill in the air. He might as well be comfortable while Nori messed around with her hair for whatever mysterious womanly reason.

After a few minutes, she said, "You may look at me now." She was speaking in an Orocarni accent again, but her voice was slightly higher than what he was used to from Nezhka.

Dwalin stood and turned around. He gaped for a second, not believing what he was seeing. It was the thief from the market! 

And yet, he realized as he stared at the thief, she was Nezhka, and she was Nori too.

She had put her hair up in three peaks, accented with three thin braids that ran from her hairline to the back of her head. She had wrapped a blue tablecloth around her in an approximation of the blue silk "gown" that the thief had fashioned out of stolen fabric.

"May I assist you in some manner, master guardsman?" Nori/Nezhka/the thief asked.

Dwalin groped for the back of the sofa and leaned on it heavily, feeling shaken. "You. You were the thief that day in the marketplace."

"Yes," she said, smiling crookedly. "You were right when you saw me disguised as Nezhka the first time and you accused me of being the thief. The one thing you got wrong was that you thought the thief was a boy."

He should arrest her. She had stolen that silk and had just confessed to it. 

And yet he couldn't. Even if he had still been an active member of the watch rather than on indefinite leave, he couldn't have arrested her, not her. He was lost.

"I'm sure you would prefer not to finish that oath," she said quietly, turning away. "I release you, Dwalin. You're free."

Dwalin watched her walk towards the door, dropping the tablecloth on a side table as she went, and had a sudden moment of absolute clarity. He didn't care. If he was lost, he was lost with her.

He stood, holding out his wrists again. "I, Dwalin, son of Fundin--"

"What are you doing?" she shouted as she spun around.

"--bind myself to your service, Nori daughter of Kori. Until such time as I wish to be free, I am your Dwarf in body and soul."

"By Mahal's great furry balls, what were you thinking?" she demanded, grabbing onto his weapons harness and trying to shake him. "You were free."

"Lass, I have no wish to be free of you," Dwalin said. "Not now, not ever."

Her eyes widened. "You don't mean that."

"I am yours--"

"Shut up!" she shouted. "I'm a thief, you're a guardsman. This doesn't work."

"Why not?" he asked, brushing a stray strand of hair off her cheek.

"What if you see me stealing?" she asked. "What if, right now, I take--" She glanced wildly around the room and grabbed a small wooden sculpture off the top of a nearby cabinet. "This. I'm going to steal this--whatever the hell this is--from your king. What do you do?"

"Ask nicely if you'll put it back."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll be unhappy with you," he said calmly. "But I'll still be your Dwarf."

She shook her head. "You're insane."

"Maybe so," Dwalin said. He sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. "Come sit with me."

He could hear her pacing behind him for a few minutes. She huffed a sigh and he heard the quiet sound of the sculpture being put down on the cabinet again. Dwalin waited patiently.

Nori threw herself down on the sofa beside him, her arms crossed belligerently. "It'll never work."

Dwalin nodded peaceably and unearthed his pipe from his belt pouch, packing it with pipeweed. "Smoke?" he asked.

"I'll steal all your pipeweed and smoke it without you," she muttered, but accepted the pipe when he passed it to her. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, passing the pipe back and forth. The room slowly grew darker as a few of the candles guttered out and the fire grew low. 

Dwalin, though a guardsman by trade, had done quite a bit of hunting in his time. He knew that the secret to a successful hunt was to sit quietly and wait for the prey to come to you. Patience had not come naturally to him at first but it was a lesson that he had learned well. 

So he sat quietly and didn't startle as Nori slowly went from sitting stiffly beside him to slumping down in her seat, her shoulder brushing his, to relaxing so that their sides pressed together from shoulder to hip.

At last she heaved a sigh. "I still think you're crazy."

"That's fair enough."

"But I did just realize that there is one distinct advantage to us not being bound together by Balin's ruling anymore." She rolled her head to the side, looking up at him with an impish smile. "We can fuck without instantly being married."

Sudden heat sparked in Dwalin's body as he met her gaze. "True," he said hoarsely.

Her eyes dipped down, scanning over his body, and then rose to meet his again. "That is, if you're up for it. I know it's been a long day and you're not as young as I am."

Dwalin tapped the pipe out and put it down on the hearth, safely out of the way. Then he turned back to Nori and let his hunger show in his eyes. "Oh, I'd be careful about getting too cocky about that. Age and experience can't be underestimated."

"Is that so?" she said, a challenging smile curving her mouth. 

Dwalin knelt on the floor in front of her, resting his hands on her knees. "Have no doubt," he said, keeping eye contact with her as he slid his hands under her skirts, up her boots to her knees, and then up her thighs, rucking up the skirt of her gown as he went.

He paused at the top of her thighs, his hands spanning her legs and his thumbs resting on the tender inner skin of her thighs. "For one thing, youth lends itself to impatience." He waited, his hands not moving, until she squirmed. "Getting impatient?" he asked.

"I will take matters into my own hands if you don't get yours moving right now."

"That would be a lovely sight," he said, his hands squeezing the soft flesh of her thighs at the thought. "But we'll save that for later." And with that, he pushed the skirt of her gown up to her hips, baring her to his sight. "No bloomers," he said, sucking in a deep breath.

"Didn't have any to wear." She smirked, scooting a little lower on the sofa and letting her legs slide further apart.

Dwalin rested his hands on her thighs by the crease where they met her body, his thumbs just touching the lips of her cunt. She squirmed, biting her lip. He pressed in lightly, drawing his thumbs apart to bare her slit to his gaze. She was flushed red and glistening with desire. Dwalin took a deep breath and hummed to himself in pleasure. "You're delicious, lass."

"You haven't even tasted me yet." Her voice was husky, her eyes half-lidded and dark.

"Getting impatient?" he grinned up at her. Dwalin leaned in and slid his tongue along her cleft, hearing her inhale sharply as he found the pearl hiding at the top of her cunt and teased it with the tip of his tongue. 

She moaned as he lapped at her sex, getting her juices all over his chin as he delved his tongue as deeply into her as he could. Her thighs tensed as he switched to sucking at her pearl. He ran his thumb along her slit, sliding easily on her slickness.

She grabbed at the back of his head with one hand, pressing him toward her as he lapped at her pearl. Dwalin slid his thumb into her wet heat slowly, watching her mouth drop open as he pressed up with his thumb against the spongy front wall of her sex. With his other hand he fumbled at the fastenings of his trousers and the ties to his braies, sighing with relief at the release of pressure as he freed his rapidly hardening cock.

Dwalin fluttered his tongue over her pearl at the same time as he pumped his thumb into her and twisted, pressing against her front wall again. He heard a soft thudding sound and rolled his eyes to the side to see that she was pounding the cushion of the sofa with her free hand.

"Fuck--" she moaned, one of her feet hooking behind him and digging the heel of her boot into his back. Dwalin refused to be hurried, keeping the stimulation just a little too light to bring her over her peak until she was actively swearing at him and writhing against the sofa. Then and only then did he take mercy on her, sucking on her pearl and pressing at her sweet spot inside until her cries reached their climax. Her body froze for a moment and then he felt the rhythmic squeezing of her reaching her peak in rhythm with her wordless moans.

Dwalin licked her pearl again, enjoying the high, shivery moan she gave at the contact. He could feel her pulling away from the stimulation though, so he rested his head on her thigh while he waited for her to recover. He pulled his thumb out gently and let his hand rest on the edge of the couch between her thighs, his knuckles just brushing the soft lips of her cunt.

Nori took a deep breath, stretching her back with a satisfied-sounding hum. "Oh, yes, that was exactly what I needed."

Dwalin grinned and pressed a kiss into her thigh. "Good to hear. You certainly sounded like you were having fun."

"Oh, hush," she said without any real heat, languidly rolling her hips and pressing down against his knuckles. Dwalin pushed back, watching her bite her lip as she ground her pearl against his middle knuckle.

Dwalin sat back on his haunches, keeping eye contact as he raised his right hand to his mouth and licked her juices off of his knuckles. With his left hand, he grasped his cock and pumped it slowly, sliding the loose skin back and exposing the head. A blurt of precome escaped the slit and dribbled down as he pumped. He watched her eyes widen and darken as they focused on what his left hand was doing.

Nori braced her arms on the sofa and slid her hips forward, the fabric of the gown rucking up as she slid her hips just over the edge of the sofa and paused, watching him.

Dwalin groaned as he realized what she intended to do. "Wait, wait--we need a sheath."

She shrugged, holding herself steady with little apparent effort. "I had the stone-fever as a child. Don't worry, you aren't in any danger of fathering a bastard on me."

The stone-fever was one of the great scourges of Dwarven-kind and the main reason for their low birthrate. If Nori had contracted the stone-fever as a child then it was unlikely she'd ever be able to bear a child to term. Dwalin opened his mouth, to say what he didn't know, but all words fled from his mind as she slowly slid off the sofa and onto his stiff cock. The heat and wet and tightness engulfed the head of his cock as she rocked down onto him.

Dwalin groaned, holding himself absolutely still as she paused, the expression on her face flickering into discomfort. " _Fuck_ , you're big."

He knew he was big, too big really, and she was so small, with narrow hips for a Dwarf woman. "Sorry--we don't have to--" Dwalin groaned, gripping the edge of the sofa with white-knuckled hands.

"Hold still and _don't_ apologize." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, rocking down a little more. "It'll help if you rub my pearl again."

Dwalin obediently slid his thumb over her pearl, gathering slick from the tight-stretched opening of her cunt and returning to rub against the hard little nubbin. She moaned and he sucked in a hard breath through his nose as he felt her muscles loosen. Renewed slickness inside of her eased the way as she slid down and down, until finally she sat fully in his lap, his cock encased in the hottest, tightest grip imaginable.

"Oh Mahal," she groaned, her head thrown back, exposing the pale column of her neck. Dwalin leaned forward and buried his nose in the crook of her neck, smelling the musk of her sex mixing with his own scent. He was drowning in her scent, longing to bite her neck and mark her as his own. Dwalin snarled against her neck and felt her shudder. 

" _Now_ ," she said, hooking her legs around his waist and digging her fingernails into his shoulders.

Dwalin gripped her by her waist, his fingers almost touching in the back, and lifted her almost off his cock and then brought her down again, slowly building a rhythm. "Harder," she growled. 

He lifted up on his knees and braced her against the sofa, fucking her harder as she groaned wordless demands. The sofa skidded away from them, throwing his stroke off. She hissed and bit his ear, growling, "Fuck me like you mean it, guardsman."

Dwalin roared and shoved the sofa out of their way, the wooden legs screeching across the floor as he slammed her to the rug. He froze for an instant, horrified at himself for forgetting his strength with a woman, but she grinned up at him like a wolf and said, "That's more like it."

And then he lost his Mahal-damned mind for a little, fucking her harder than he'd ever fucked a woman before, while she raked her claws across his back and bit him anywhere she could reach, her cries increasing in intensity along with his until orgasm hit them both like an earthquake, whiting out his mind as he heard her scream his name.

Dwalin collapsed, having just enough presence of mind to brace himself with an elbow so that he didn't completely crush her. She made soft noises in the back of her throat as her breathing started to slow, her legs slowly sliding down from around his waist. He could tell the heels of her boots had marked up his back, but he _really_ didn't mind. 

After a few minutes, Dwalin shifted his hips, gently pulling his softening cock out of her cunt. She moaned and he froze in place, asking, "Did I hurt you, lass?"

A smug smile curved her mouth as she said, "Oh, I'm going to be sore as hell, but it was worth it."

Reassured, Dwalin finished pulling out from her and collapsed onto his back, groaning. She knelt up briefly, grabbing a throw blanket from where it had been knocked off of the sofa, and pulled it over them as she fit herself to his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Dwalin curled his arm around her and nuzzled the top of her head, his whole body feeling limp and buzzing with pleasure.

They should really move, he thought. Sleeping on the floor in a drawing room where anyone could walk in just wasn't a good idea... He'd move, just in a minute...

When he woke a few hours later, cold wherever he wasn't covered by the throw blanket, the fire was burnt down to embers and she was gone.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are three conversations (four if you count eavesdropping.)

"Well, fuck me. You're a wizard."

The table broke out in general pandemonium after Bofur's statement. Grimr waited calmly for the shouting to die down.

Thorin had to yell the table into submission again. Once everyone had stopped shouting over each other, Thorin turned to Grimr, saying, "Master Wizard--"

"I generally just go by Grimr."

"--we must discuss these matters in private. Please accept the hospitality of our house for tonight, for you and your companions."

"My thanks," Grimr said, nodding to Thorin and Dis. He had no doubt that they would decide in the end to go along with his plans. 

Grimr had been doing this for a very, very long time, after all.

He caught Dori's expression as he stood to leave the table and it troubled him that she looked so betrayed. Nori looked angry, but she'd been angry with Grimr before. He knew that she would forgive him eventually. Dori, though... he'd have to apologize later. She was an honorable and honest woman and she deserved an explanation from him. He would be pleased if she would let him continue to court her, as well.

Grimr mentally flipped his fingers at Eru. Grimr would apologize for flirting with mortals when He apologized for dumping them down here with magic limited to the level of parlor tricks, no bloody funding, and a mission as modest in scope as "save Middle Earth from the forces of evil." Until then, Eru could bloody well stuff it regarding Grimr's love life.

As he walked past her, Nori flicked her fingers at him in quick Iglishmek. _My room, five minutes._

He wasn't actually sure which room had been assigned to her. Grimr loitered in the upstairs hallway, lighting his pipe so that it looked like he'd made a deliberate decision to wait outside. 

"Grimr," Nori said when she reached the top of the stairs. She sounded like she was naming a particularly annoying pest. 

"That is what I am called," he said, bowing. 

Nori rolled her eyes at him. "Come on," she said, leading him into a bedroom.

Grimr noticed the bits and pieces of armor piled next to the washbasin and raised an eyebrow at her. "Sharing a room with a certain guardsman, my dear?"

"Don't even." Nori paced across the room and turned to face him, pointing at him accusingly. "I want to know how you did that trick."

"What trick would that be?"

"The trick where you made yourself appear to be a wizard, what do you think?"

"Well..." Grimr pretended to think it over. "If I appeared to be a wizard, that would be because I actually am a wizard."

"You're not a wizard," Nori snorted.

"This argument really could go on all night, so let me demonstrate." Grimr raised a hand and called a globe of blue light into his hand. "Wizard."

"How are you doing that?" Nori asked. She examined the blue light closely and then felt around his wrist, clearly checking for some kind of apparatus that would explain the ball of light in his hand. Grimr clenched the bit of his pipe in his teeth and passed the ball of light from one hand to the other, holding out his empty hand so that Nori could examine it.

"All right, tell me how you're doing it."

"Magic." Grimr laughed and dodged her feinted kidney-punch. "Really, it is actually magic. Nori, you're my partner. Do you think I'd lie to you about a thing such as this?"

"If this is true then you've been lying to me about who you are for decades." Nori looked genuinely upset behind her facade of anger.

"Oh my dear." Grimr briefly considered all the possible sitting spots in the room. Based on his knowledge of what would make Nori feel least trapped, he sat down on the floor with a clear line of sight to both the door and the window and rested his back comfortably against the wall. "I am sorry for that."

Nori squinted at him suspiciously before dropping to the floor next to him. "Be more specific. What are you sorry about?"

"I'm sorry that I made the decision to lie to you. I still think my reasoning was correct, but I regret not being honest with you."

Nori's shoulders relaxed, even though she continued glaring at him. "We've been partners for fifty years. You didn't think you could trust me?"

"I trust you with my life, Nori. You know that." Grimr found that his pipe had gone out and lit it with a quick spark from his finger. "But I serve a greater purpose."

Nori's eyes widened as she saw him blow the spark at the tip of his finger out. "You said something about protecting all of Middle Earth?"

"Ah, yes. I'm not technically supposed to have told that to any of you." He snorted. "Because the best approach to take in getting people to trust you is to not be able to tell them that your job is helping them." 

"Your "job"?"

"I belong to a group of wizards who have been tasked with protecting Middle Earth from the forces of evil. No, I really can't explain any further than that."

"I still think you're full of Warg shit, old man," Nori said. "But I'm willing to admit that you have some kind of magical power. Which you probably stole from somewhere, knowing you."

Grimr just laughed.

"So what was all that about a dragon and needing a king to go to this lost kingdom?" Nori asked. "Laying it on a bit thick, weren't you?"

"No, that was actually all true. If the legends are correct, I need a king to tame the dragon. There aren't that many crownless Dwarven kings wandering around Middle Earth." Grimr observed the thunderclouds building in Nori's expression and knew what she was thinking. "You're right, I never intended to sell the map and key to that loathsome little nobleman. The goal was always to get Thorin Oakenshield's attention."

"So I put up with Lord Skagi's wandering eyes for no good reason? You owe me."

"My dear, I owe you more than I can possibly ever repay."

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Nori asked hesitantly, "In the Grey Mountains, after the Warg attack... I fully expected to wake up in the Halls of Waiting after I blacked out. I should have died that day. You did something with your magic, didn't you?"

He remembered: _Nori with blood splashed across her deathly pale face as she ordered him, "Just leave me here and keep going, damn you. At least one of us should survive this."_ Breaking himself out of the memory with a shake of his head, Grimr said, "It's not something that I can do often, or easily. But yes, I healed you."

"What about Sigrun? Could you not have saved her?"

"She was too badly injured. There are limits to what I can heal, and Sigrun was beyond my power to save." 

Nori nodded, her hands clenching. "It's been so many years... you'd think that it would have stopped hurting by now."

"In my experience, that kind of pain never really goes away. You just learn to live with it." Grimr put his arm around Nori's shoulders, tucking his chin against the top of her head. Nori sighed as she slumped against him.

"Think you can forgive me for lying to you?" Grimr asked.

A knock at the door interrupted whatever Nori would have said in response. She stood and crossed to the door, opening it only a crack so that whoever was at the door couldn't see into the room. Grimr recognized the other person's voice as Dwalin. 

Before leaving the room, Nori gestured one word to Grimr with the hand hidden from Dwalin's view.

_Yes._

That went better than he'd expected. Now to find and apologize to Dori.

Locating Dori was easier than he would have thought. As soon as he stepped outside the door, he heard a sharp cry of, "You!"

Grimr saw Dori bearing down on him with an angry glint in her eyes. "Me, Mistress Dori?" he asked innocently.

"Don't even start with me. You let me believe you were just a good-for-nothing friend of Nori's." Dori crossed her arms and glared at him.

"I am just a good-for-nothing friend of Nori's," Grimr agreed. "Who also happens to be a wizard."

"Stuff and nonsense," she said severely.

Grimr couldn't help but smile at her. She was so entirely respectable that he longed to muss her up a little. This was probably what Curumo meant when he called Grimr irresponsible and a bad influence on mortals.

"Could we speak for a moment in private?" he asked. "I have important matters to discuss with you."

Her eyes lit up in curiosity. "Well, it would be improper for me to entertain you in my bedchamber without a chaperone," she said. "But Ori is already asleep in our room and that should be enough for propriety's sake."

Ori was a blanket-covered lump on the bed in the room she shared with Dori, but Grimr suspected she only played at sleeping. 

Dori led the way to a couple of chairs by the fireplace. There was a pitcher of water sitting on a side table with a few silver cups. Dori poured a cup for Grimr before pouring one for herself and sitting down on the chair opposite his.

Setting his pipe aside, Grimr took a sip of water and began his explanation. "I do apologize for not telling you that I am a wizard, Mistress Dori. But you must understand that it is a matter of some delicacy."

"How so?"

"I belong to an order of wizards who work to protect Middle Earth from the forces of evil. Strictly speaking, I should not have told any of you as much as I did tonight. Our work is meant to be kept secret."

Dori thought it over for a few minutes, her lips pursed in thought. "Well, I suppose if you're expected to keep it a secret that it's understandable why you wouldn't have told me in the first place," she said. "I accept your apology."

"Thank you," Grimr said, standing and bowing to her quite properly before taking a seat again.

"Now that we have all of that cleared up, when all this nonsense is done, I do hope you will have the chance to stop by for tea again," she said. "Not that I am entirely over you not telling me that you're a wizard! But it is so difficult to find anyone who's knowledgeable about tea around here."

"We will probably have a chance to talk about tea quite a bit on the road."

"What do you mean?" Dori's look of polite confusion was belied by the white-knuckled grip with which she held her cup.

"I mean that you and Ori will need to join us on the quest, of course." Grimr noticed the sudden shifting of the quilts on the bed and heard a very quiet squeak that sounded like Ori. He hid a smile by taking a long drink of water.

"That's ridiculous," Dori said. "I have my work and Ori has her apprenticeship."

"Ori is apprenticed to Balin, correct? Well, I'm certain that Balin will follow his king on this quest. As his apprentice, Ori should go with him. And as for the idea of you staying behind on your own, Ered Luin isn't safe for you any longer. The Mithril Hand will stop at nothing to get back the map and key. They would kill you just to get to Nori."

"Mahal damn it!" There was a creaking noise from the silver cup held in Dori's hand. She made a startled noise and put it down, grimacing as she saw the dents she'd left in the metal. "I told her not to mess things up for Ori, and what does she immediately go and do? Nori had no right to get me and Ori mixed up in her illegal activities."

"Truthfully, the blame should rest on me, not on your sister." Grimr went down to one knee before her, bowing his head. "It was my decision that led to the current situation. None of what has happened is Nori's fault."

"Oh, do get up!" Dori said, wringing her hands. "I can't have a wizard kneeling to me."

"Please accept my apology, Mistress Dori," Grimr said as he continued to kneel. "I will do whatever is within my power to make amends for forcing you to abandon your home."

"Will it make you get up?" Dori hissed. "Yes, fine, I accept your apology! You don't need to make amends to me, don't be ridiculous."

"You will have to allow me to be the judge of that," Grimr said, standing. "Good evening, Mistress Dori. As always, it has been my pleasure." He bowed and took her hand, kissing her knuckles and winking up at her before letting her hand go.

Dori bid him a cool and dignified good evening. But Grimr saw the two bright spots of color on her cheeks and the pleased smile she was attempting to hide behind her glower. 

He felt a definite spring in his step as he let himself out of the room. That went even better than he had hoped. 

Now to find the crownless king and convince him to go along with Grimr's plans.

Downstairs, he found that the dining room had been abandoned but for Dis and Thorin. He used a small nudge of power to make himself easy to overlook and then stationed himself against the wall just outside the doorway and shamelessly eavesdropped on their conversation.

Her voice calm but strained-sounding, Dis said, "Either it's perfectly safe and you can bring me along or it's terribly dangerous and you should leave the boys behind. You can't have it both ways."

"They're old enough--" Thorin tried to interrupt.

"Kili is fifty-three, Thorin." There was a thumping sound like a hand hitting the table. "I will concede that maybe, _maybe_ Fili is old enough to go on a quest. He has always been mature for his age. But there is no way that I'm letting you take Kili on a long and dangerous journey without me, and there will be no stopping Kili from running off to find his brother if you try to leave without him."

Thorin's voice turned placating. "I understand your worries, but Dis, I need you to stay here to run things in my absence."

"Oin and Gloin are staying behind with Kolfina and Gimli. They can watch things in Ered Luin while we're gone. You can trust Oin to keep Gloin from accidentally starting a clan-war over something ridiculous."

"There's no convincing you to stay, is there?"

"Did you have any doubt?" Dis laughed quietly. There was a pause and then she asked, "If this all turns out to be true and not some elaborate hoax, and we're able to claim Hrathi Stonefist's lost kingdom... what then of Erebor?"

"We will regain Erebor some day soon. I know you don't agree with me that the dragon is dead--"

"Thirty-six years, Thorin. It has only been thirty-six years since Smaug attacked a village of Men. Dragons sleep for decades at a time if they're well-fed."

"It may have died of old wounds by now," Thorin said. "There is no way to know without going to the mountain." This had the sound of an old argument, so well-rehearsed that all the fire had gone out of it.

"And what, poking it with a stick?" Dis asked.

Thorin sighed loudly. "Be that as it may. If another few decades go by without a sign of Smaug, then I think we will again turn our eyes toward Erebor. Until then, though... I think it is better to take this chance to claim a kingdom of our own than continue to stay in a city where we are tolerated at best."

"And the situation here appears to be deteriorating, if anything. But do you trust the wizard?"

Grimr leaned closer to the doorframe, fascinated to hear his answer.

"Yes and no," Thorin said. "I believe his story, but I also believe that he has plans which he has not shared with us. Wizards can never be entirely trusted."

"What of his partner? The former "Lady Nezhka"?"

"Her, I will keep an eye on."

"You could hardly keep a closer eye on her than Dwalin does. Haven't you noticed? Oh, you hadn't! Men," she snorted. "Dwalin is head over heels for her. He follows her around like a boy with his first crush."

"Do you think she will play him false?"

"Oh, I'll be having a conversation with her soon on that very subject," Dis said, her tone dangerous.

Grimr decided that he'd heard enough. Thorin would go along with the plan, even if he didn't trust Grimr entirely. That was doubtlessly wise of him. 

He didn't need to stir the pot any further tonight. Grimr silently slipped away from the dining room. A muffled noise caught his attention and he followed it to a door further along the hallway. He recognized it after only a moment of listening at the door. 

Oh. So that's where Nori had disappeared to. Grimr snorted soundlessly and continued on his way upstairs.

A few hours later, he woke to the sound of the door opening and closing behind a familiar figure. Nori paused by the door, probably taking off her boots since her footsteps were silent as she crossed the room and wordlessly climbed into bed. Grimr shifted onto his back and rested his hands comfortably on his stomach. He was surprised when Nori didn't immediately curl up next to him but instead sat with her arms wrapped around her drawn-up knees. 

"I fucked Dwalin. It was completely fantastic." Her voice was hoarse-sounding and subdued.

"Congratulations, but might I suggest that the two of you use a bedroom for its intended purpose next time."

"I don't know if there will be a next time."

Grimr waited but Nori didn't say anything more. Finally, he asked, "My jewel, is this because of what happened with Sigrun? Because she wouldn't want you to--"

"It doesn't matter what Sigrun would or wouldn't want, because she's _dead_ ," Nori snapped. After a moment, she continued more quietly, "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"All right," he said. "All right."

Nori curled up with her forehead resting against Grimr's arm and didn't say another word that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose the name Sigrun because it was Norse and it sounded good... and then my beta said IS THIS THE SIGRUN FROM DRAGON AGE? and I went, well, it certainly could be! Not exactly the same character, but there are some similarities.
> 
> Also, all this time I have been pronouncing Grimr wrong and now it is far, far too late to change how I pronounce it. Grimr's name, in my story, is pronounced like the word "grimmer." I sincerely apologize to any Scandinavians in my audience.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are bad dreams, breakfast for thirteen, and a meeting with a Perfectly Legitimate Businessman.

Dreams of blood on snow chased Nori through the night.

She would claw her way out of the dreams, only to stare at the dim ceiling of the bedroom until finally her racing pulse slowed. The steady rhythm of Grimr's breathing would lull her back into sleep, and then the cycle would begin again. 

Jerking awake from another dream, Nori ground the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, growling under her breath. She was sure that Grimr couldn't possibly be sleeping through her restless tossing and turning, but the old man was kind enough to pretend to be asleep for her sake.

She hadn't suffered this badly from the nightmares in years. She knew that it was just because the situation with Dwalin was raking up old memories, but that didn't make it any easier to deal with.

_"Should I be jealous?" Sigrun asked with a teasing grin one day, having found Nori and Grimr cat-napping back-to-back in a beam of sunlight. Nori just laughed and drew her down into her arms. The three of them napped together the rest of the afternoon until it was time to leave for the heist._

It hurt to remember that moment, but it felt strangely good at the same time.

To the memory of laughing blue eyes, Nori said silently, _You'd have liked him, Sigrun, even if he is a guardsman. He's a brave, loyal idiot, just like you were._

_But I'll be damned if I'll let him die the same way._

Eventually, she drifted off into an exhausted sleep. 

She was bleary-eyed and short-tempered the next morning when she stumbled down to the kitchen only to remember that her store of _kava_ had been lost along with everything else they'd left at the apartment. She settled for brewing a hideously strong pot of tea. 

Nori was sitting at the kitchen table hunched over her cup when Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur wandered into the kitchen. "What in Mahal's name are you doing here?" she demanded.

"And a good morning to you too," Bofur laughed. He dropped carelessly into the chair next to her, saying, "Oy, Bombur, start a fry-up."

Bombur looked uncertain. "It's not our kitchen. I can't just start cooking without a by-your-leave."

_Start breakfast for thirteen_ , Bifur gestured. _They will be grateful for the help._

"Bif's right," Bofur said cheerfully, not offering to help as his brother and cousin started bustling in the kitchen. Turning to Nori, he explained, "What with the unpleasantness in the streets last night, the Lady Dis offered us a place to sleep. It's the strangest thing, for some reason they had one more guest room available than they expected."

"Is that so?" Nori said, taking a sip of tea and meeting his eyes calmly.

Bofur snorted with laughter. "I should have known better than to even try. Cool as a stalactite, that's our Lady of the Knives."

Drawn by the smell of sizzling bacon, the rest of the inhabitants of the house started drifting in and soon the kitchen was packed. Dwalin wandered in late and found a seat crowded at the other end of the table with Fili and Kili. Nori assiduously avoided meeting his eyes. 

Last night was a mistake on both of their parts. She needed to put distance between them until Dwalin came to his senses and realized that a thief was the last thing he needed in his life. He was of noble birth after all, cousin to Thorin Oakenshield. Not only was she a commoner (no matter Dori's claim that they were somehow related to the house of Durin on the wrong side of the sheets), but she could never bear him an heir. He would realize eventually that it would never work and then he would be glad to have the option of dissolving his oath to her.

She was distracted from her thoughts by the discussion of who would go on the quest. The final list included Thorin, Dis, and her sons; Balin and Dwalin; Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur; and Grimr, Nori, Dori, and Ori. Nori was shocked when Dori didn't even put up a token protest against leaving Ered Luin. She had expected to need to fight Dori tooth and nail on the subject. She suspected that Grimr had something to do with Dori's unexpected agreeableness.

Kili greeted the news that Dis would be joining them on the journey with a loud, disgruntled-sounding, "Mam!" 

"Shut it, sweetheart," Dis said. "Either I'm going with or you and your brother aren't going at all." Kili sank down in his chair, pouting.

Nori accidentally caught Dwalin's eyes. He was staring at her, his eyes burning hot as coals. She flushed and looked away.

"Thirteen is an unlucky number," Balin said, shaking his head.

"Oh, I imagine that we might pick up a guide on the way," Grimr said.

"Begging your pardon, but we've traveled the Great East Road a number of times, Master Wizard," Bofur said. "We won't need a guide to get to the Misty Mountains."

"Yes, but we won't be taking the East Road," Grimr said. "When the Mithril Hand figures out that we have departed for Dracadelf, that is exactly the route that they will expect us to take."

"Because that's the only route there is to take," Dwalin growled. 

"No, it isn't. There is another way." Nori steeled herself and met Dwalin's eyes calmly, keeping her face blank. She would not blush and stammer like a child. "There is a road that leads from the White Downs to the Greenway."

"Fili, fetch the top map from the map case in the study," Thorin ordered. Despite the order only being for one of them, both boys immediately ran to fetch it.

They cleared the table of the remains of breakfast and laid the map out, crowding around it. Grimr traced a line from Ered Luin, across the Lune River, and down through the White Downs to a place marked only as "The Shire."

"The Shire? What's that?" Kili asked.

"Queer folk live there," Balin said. "Halflings. Shorter than Dwarves, peaceful, mainly farmers. We thought to trade with them when first we came to Ered Luin, but they have no interest in trade or anything outside their little land."

"Fairly useless," Dwalin added.

"From the Shire, the Greenway can be followed all the way to the Gap of Rohan," Grimr said. "Of course, the Greenway is in poor shape and the ford at the ruins of Tharbad can be tricky. But I am sure that the company of Thorin Oakenshield can rise to the challenge."

It seemed to Nori that Grimr was laying it on a bit thick, but she saw the way that Thorin's shoulders straightened at the flattery. 

"Very well," Thorin said. "How long will it take to make the caravan ready?" He directed the question to Bofur, who tended to act as the spokesman for his kin.

"We'll need riding ponies for thirteen and a few pack ponies," Bofur said. "Plus provisions and supplies... give us two days to get everything set up."

"We can't make it obvious that we're all setting out on a long journey. The Mithril Hand will catch up to us before we're half a day out of the city," Nori said.

"I am afraid that Nori is correct," Grimr said. "We will need to exit Ered Luin in a more discreet manner."

"Somehow, I'm certain that you have a suggestion," Dis said.

"An old friend of Nori's is taking a shipment of cargo out of the Undercity tunnels soon," Grimr said. "We can ride with their caravan as far as the Shire."

"Which old friend?" Nori asked him in an undertone. 

"Veirik," Grimr said. Nori nodded, reassured. Of all the "old friends" Grimr could have named, Veirik was the one least likely to be objectionable to Thorin (not to mention Dwalin).

"I can imagine what kind of caravan leaves from the Undercity," Thorin grumbled. "I don't know that I care for this plan."

"Veirik is a perfectly legitimate businessman. Just don't ask if he's paid the tariffs on any of his cargo," Nori said. _Mostly legitimate_ , she thought. It was close enough.

Thorin made a sour face but didn't raise any objection.

"Nori and I will go to the Undercity to meet with Veirik and make arrangements," Grimr said.

"Dwalin will go with you," Thorin said.

"All due respect, but Dwalin looks like a guardsman," Nori said. "The type of people you meet in the Undercity aren't real fond of guardsmen."

"Then make him not look like one," Thorin said. "I will not debate on this point. Dwalin will go with you."

_You would think that Thorin didn't trust us or something,_ Nori thought. She wished he hadn't chosen this point to be stubborn on, but had to concede that there was really no one else in Thorin's group who could even potentially pass in the Undercity. At least Dwalin had a lot of very visible tattoos. She could work with that.

Half an hour later, she was regretting her moment of optimism.

Dis had a storage room in the attic full of clothing and gear either grown out of by living members of her family or left behind by the deceased. It was the sort of thrift that went a long way towards supporting Nori's impression that Lady Dis was no soft, useless noblewoman. Princess she might have been, but Dis had clearly gone through enough lean times to understand that nothing useful was ever discarded.

Dis had produced a dark blue leather jerkin for Nori, which she said had been hers when she had been much younger, and a dark green leather jerkin for Dwalin. She didn't say who it had belonged to, but considering that it looked like it would fit Dwalin perfectly, Nori guessed that whoever had worn it had passed on to the Halls of Waiting. Thorin was almost as tall as Dwalin, but nowhere near as barrel-chested.

Dis held the jerkin up to Dwalin's chest consideringly. "If he wears it without a shirt, maybe."

"I agree, that should do nicely," Nori said.

"Why would I wear a leather jerkin with no shirt underneath?" Dwalin asked, sneering at the garment in question. 

"Because it will show off your biceps and it looks tough." Nori took the jerkin from Dis's hands and shoved it at Dwalin's chest until he grabbed it. "You need to look like a mercenary. Thank you, Lady Dis," she said as they left the storage room.

Dis nodded and wished them well as she worked on packing clothing back into boxes and wardrobes.

"I didn't dress like that when I was working as a sell-sword," Dwalin grumbled once they were out of Dis's earshot.

"Did you work for smugglers when you were a sell-sword? No, you were a semi-respectable mercenary. That's not the look we're going for here. Now go put that on while I get ready," Nori said, opening the door to the room she'd shared with Grimr.

"This where you spent the night?" Dwalin asked, sounding--she didn't know what he sounded like. Worried? Jealous, maybe?

"Yes," Nori said, deciding that simple answers were probably best until she figured out what was going on here.

Dwalin moved closer but stayed at a respectful distance. Nori tried to ignore the shiver of arousal running up her spine at the thought of their proximity to a bed. Gently, he asked, "All you all right?"

Oh! He wasn't jealous, he was concerned that she'd been injured. Well, now Nori felt like an asshole. "No, no, I'm fine. It'd take more than what we did last night to injure me," she said.

"That's not what I meant," Dwalin said, but then Fili and Kili came tromping up the stairs like oliphaunts and Nori was able to make her escape from the conversation.

Nori put her hair up in the three-peaked style, dressed in the boy-style clothing that she'd been wearing most of the day yesterday, and added the thick leather jerkin on top.

She contemplated the state of her weaponry. She still had the knives strapped to her forearms, the knives built into her boots, and the crossed daggers at the small of her back. Something was missing, though. She needed to be more visibly armed to wander around the Undercity. 

Ah, of course. Nori strapped the thigh holsters that she usually wore hidden under dresses over the legs of her trousers. Perfect.

Dwalin seemed to agree, if the way he eyed her outfit when she came down the stairs was any indication. He was looking Mahal-damned attractive himself, dressed in the sleeveless leather jerkin along with his usual dark trousers and fur-topped boots, his weapons harness stretched across his massive chest.

She really should have guessed that his upper arms would be covered in intricate tattoos. Nori tried not to stare at his huge biceps. Mahal, she wanted to climb him like a mountain. Except no, she wasn't doing that anymore and she needed to stop staring before Dwalin noticed.

Their eyes met before she looked away. Judging by the smug look in his eyes, he'd noticed her staring. Damn.

"Think you've got enough knives there, my lady?" Bofur asked. "You could probably strap some to your shins."

Nori drew the knives from her hidden boot-sheaths and casually flipped and caught them. "Already got that covered," she said, winking at him.

"Ready?" Grimr asked as he walked into the entryway.

"As a whore on a miner's payday!" Bofur said.

"What is _he_ doing here?" Dwalin asked no one in particular.

Bofur grinned and adjusted his hat. "Somebody's gotta buy the ponies, Master Dwalin."

The trip down to the Undercity was much as per usual: dark, dank, and dripping with unmentionable liquids. Nori led the way, listening to Dwalin's grumbling and Bofur's cheerful whistling as Grimr brought up the rear.

The inhabited portion of the Undercity was a relatively intact neighborhood of the ancient city perhaps a mile across. The roof of the cavern it was built into still soared high above them, but the ancient streets ended abruptly in a jagged line halfway across the cavern, breaking off into a steep, treacherous slope of rubble leading to a deep abyss. Locals referred to the abyss as "downstairs" and used it to dispose of trash, including the occasional corpse.

Veirik wasn't hard to find. The Undercity had taverns just like the city above, though these were so far past "disreputable" that a decent tavern in Lowtown would look like a palace next to one of them. Nori went to the least disreputable-looking one and asked if a blond Dwarf with no beard had booked one of their private rooms. A silver coin later, Nori led the way to the back of the tavern and knocked on an unmarked door.

"Enter only if you come bearing booze or food," a voice called from within.

Nori pushed the door open and walked in, finding Veirik seated in a large chair at the end of a long, scarred table like a king on his throne. "I'm afraid I bear neither," she said.

"Fox!" Veirik shouted. Grinning, he stood and met her halfway into the room, where they clasped arms and knocked foreheads together in affectionate greeting. "Mahal, are you a sight for sore eyes! Who are your friends?" he asked, looking all three men over, though Nori noticed that his eyes lingered on Bofur.

"It's good to see you too, you scoundrel," Nori said. Turning, she waved a hand at her companions. "Veirik, meet Grimr, Dwalin, and Bofur. Veirik here is the worst card-shark west of the Misty Mountains."

"Fox, you flatter me," Veirik said. "I'll order us some more food and drink. Fair warning, the food is terrible and the whiskey can double as armor polish. But it's cheap!"

Once they had eaten their fill and drunk more terrible whiskey than was probably healthy, Veirik asked, "Now, I do sense that you're here for some reason beyond seeing my handsome face again. Though that is a compelling reason, I understand." He winked at Nori.

Dwalin growled, slamming his tankard down on the table. Nori kicked him before saying to Veirik, "I understand you may have a caravan leaving the city soon."

"You understand correctly," Veirik said, leaning back comfortably in his chair.

"We represent a group of thirteen Dwarves who would like to travel along with you as far as the Shire," Grimr said. "We can pay in work or coin."

"Any warriors?" Veirik asked. "Aside from the Dwarf-shaped mountain you brought along, obviously," he said with a nod at Dwalin.

Gritting his teeth, Dwalin said, "Four battle-hardened warriors, plus two young ones who are fully trained but not yet blooded."

"And most of the rest of us have battle experience even if we're not formally trained," Nori said.

"Hmmm," Veirik said dubiously, scratching the stubble on his chin. An expert shot with a bow, he kept his beard trimmed short to keep it from interfering with his archery. "I don't know, Fox. I'd like to help you out, but as it is the caravan is on the verge of getting too big to be practical."

"My brother Bombur is the best caravan cook you'll ever meet," Bofur said.

"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place, Sunshine?" Veirik asked. "A good caravan cook is worth his weight in gold. I think we can fit your Dwarves in."

Bofur had that look on his face that meant that a terrible joke or pun was forthcoming. Hastily, Nori said, "Fantastic! When does the caravan depart?"

Once they had the details hammered out, they left Veirik's throne room and headed back out into the Undercity. Grimr left on his own mysterious business, saying vaguely that he'd be back later. At the horse trader's stables, Bofur left Nori and Dwalin with a wave and a cheery "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Nori coughed and shifted awkwardly. Beside her, Dwalin had his arms crossed and a grumpier than usual look on his face.

"Why'd you leave last night, lass?"

Nori picked a direction and started walking, fast. "Because I'm a thief and you're a guardsman. And no matter what you've convinced yourself, it doesn't work."

Dwalin kept pace easily with his long strides. "How do you know until you try it?"

"Because it doesn't!" Nori hissed, turning to face him. "If you would think about it for one--"

"Well, what do we have here?" a voice called from behind her. "Looks like gentlefolk slumming it in the Undercity."

_Oh, thank Mahal. Footpads,_ Nori thought.

She turned around, raising an eyebrow at the two ragged-looking toughs facing them. "I think you have us mistaken for someone else. Someone who's not heavily armed." Smiling like a wolf, she slid the daggers out of the crossed sheaths at the small of her back.

"We're talking about this more later," Dwalin said, hefting Grasper and Keeper in his hands.

"Not if I can help it," Nori muttered under her breath, and then the battle (such as it was) was joined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're a Dragon Age fan... yes, that Dwarf does look awfully familiar. ;)
> 
> Thanks again to SorchaCahill for beta reading.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get to see things from a few more points of view as the company leaves Ered Luin.

Dwalin engaged the first thug, who charged him wielding a heavy double-edged axe. Dwalin parried the first blow with Grasper and swung at his off side with Keeper.

Nori stalked the second footpad. He was smart enough to keep his side to Nori as they turned in a circle, both holding knives in their hands.

"Bit off more than you can chew?" Nori taunted.

"Worth it if I can take you down," he said. 

"Sorry, do I know you?" she asked.

"You killed my brother Bogi."

They continued to circle, watching each other closely.

"Bogi, right. He tried to take more than his share after a job. Nothing personal, just business."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't believe the price the Hand is offering for you dead or alive. Nothing personal. Just business."

"Ungoliant's tits," Nori swore, closing with him.

The footpad dodged to the side and grabbed a handful of loose dirt, lobbing it at Nori's eyes. She turned her head and avoided the worst of it, but in the moment it took her to blink her eyes free of the dirt he took off running.

Dwalin almost took a hit then, distracted from his own fight. He caught the heavy axehead with Grasper and stepped inside the other Dwarf's guard, taking advantage of the opening to slice across the thug's neck with Keeper.

Leaving the badly wounded Dwarf bleeding out in the alley, Dwalin ran in the direction he'd seen Nori disappear.

He came upon her a little way down the alley, wiping a knife off on the dead thug's tunic. The wound on his back suggested that Nori had taken him out with a thrown blade.

"You took care of the other one?" she asked, standing and sheathing the cleaned blade.

"Aye," Dwalin said, hiding his relief at seeing her unharmed.

"The Mithril Hand is getting desperate if they're employing cut-rate thugs like these," Nori said. "We'd best collect Bofur after he's done at the stables. No telling what kind of trouble he'd get into down here on his own."

They left the corpses where they lay, to be picked over by Undercity scavengers before being dumped in the abyss.

Dwalin slanted a glance down at Nori as they walked side-by-side. "I meant everything I said last night." 

Her shoulders tensed. "Mahal's furry _balls_ , you're stubborn."

"You're one to talk!"

"...All right, you've got me there," she admitted, laughing. 

Dwalin came damned close to walking into a building then because he was so distracted by the way the corners of her eyes crinkled when she grinned.

They made their way back to the stables without further incident. Nori hopped up onto a half-crumbled wall and settled in to wait. Dwalin leaned against the wall nearby, half turned away from her.

Keeping his focus on the street, he said, "I want to make something clear. I'm not going to press for anything that you do not want. I have sworn myself to you, lass. No matter what you decide, I am your Dwarf."

Nori sighed. From the corner of his eyes, he saw her rubbing her eyes tiredly. So quietly that he was fairly sure she hadn't intended him to hear, she said, "That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

***

There was a quiet knock on the open door to the attic room. 

Dis looked up from folding Frerin's old leather duster to see Thorin standing in the doorway looking awkward.

"You kept all this?" Thorin asked. He looked around the room, his eyes lingering on a few items. She followed his gaze to a pair of boots that had been handed down from their father to Frerin, a cloak that had belonged to their mother, and Vili's old shield.

"Of course I did," she said. "It's all in good condition, there's no sense in letting it go to waste. I'm going through it all and picking out clothing and gear that might be useful on the journey. I was thinking that Kili could wear this."

Thorin walked over, looking down at what she held. "Frerin's coat," he said, reaching out to trace a finger over the embossed patterns on the sleeves.

"He'd be so proud to see that Kili took after him," Dis said. "Another archer in the line of Durin."

Thorin chuckled. "That he would be. What's this?" he asked, seeing that Dis had another coat folded underneath.

"It was Vili's," Dis said, her throat scratchy with tears as she smoothed her hands over the wolf-fur collar of the second coat. "I think it would fit Fili well. He has his father's build."

"Ah." Thorin's hand hovered over hers, indecisive, before falling back to his side without making contact.

"I want you to promise me something," Dis said.

"What is it that you would ask of me?"

"Swear to me that you will do everything in your power to keep my sons safe," Dis said, pouring her desperation into her eyes as she met Thorin's gaze. "I've buried a brother and a husband. I can't bury my sons."

"Kili and Fili are as precious to me as if they were my own. I swear to you that I will die before I let any harm come to them," Thorin said. "I will go down on one knee and swear it formally if you wish it. "

"Thank you," she said, tears gathering in her eyes without spilling. "That you are willing is all that I ask of you."

***

"Thirteen riding ponies and two pack ponies, as requested," Bofur said, finding Nori and Dwalin waiting outside the stables. "We can pick them up whenever we're ready to leave the city."

Nori jumped down from the wall. "We should head back to the house. I don't want to risk running into anyone else who's working for the Mithril Hand." Turning away, she appeared not to notice that Dwalin's eyes followed her constantly the moment her back was turned.

Bofur had been convinced that all Mistress Knives and that big guardsman of hers needed to do to clear the air was have a nice, long shag session. But perhaps he'd been wrong about that. Nori and Dwalin looked even more unhappy than they'd been before the evening at Lady Dis's house. 

Maybe they'd done it wrong.

He kept that observation to himself, though. Despite what many people thought--that Bofur couldn't keep a thought in his head without voicing it--he was smart enough to know what was funny and what would get him beat up.

Sometimes he said it anyway, but that was one of the perils of being a smart-ass.

Back at the house, he tracked down Bombur to the pantry where he was organizing piles of foodstuffs for the journey. Leaning against the doorway, Bofur proceeded to tell Bombur about the trip to the Undercity and his theory about Nori and Dwalin. "So then I thought, maybe they did it wrong, if they shagged it out and they're still fighting. What do you think?"

"Did you need something or are you just here to be a pest?" Bombur asked without looking up from what he was doing.

Everyone tended to think that Bombur was so sweet because he was shy, when actually he was a sarcastic bastard once he knew people well enough to get past his shyness. Or maybe that was just with Bofur. "Ach, my own brother. So cruel," Bofur said, pantomiming a knife to the chest.

"Either make yourself useful or go bother someone else," Bombur said. "There's some potatoes that need peeling for dinner tonight."

"Oh look, there's Lady Dis carrying a heavy box. I should help her out," Bofur said. The sound of Bombur's complaining followed him down the corridor as he made his escape.

***

"Remember, you need to speak in Westron when we're outside the mountain."

"I know, Mam," Kili said, squirming as his mother fussed with the way the leather duster fit over his shoulders.

"You both look so handsome," she said, smiling mistily at Fili and Kili. She made a face at Kili's groan of protest. "Oh, fine, I'll stop embarrassing you. For now," she added, pinching Kili's cheek before bustling out of the room. Bofur trailed behind her, carrying a box overflowing with clothing and miscellaneous gear.

"But what if we need to make plans for pranks and such without Men understanding us?" Kili asked Fili. "Couldn't we speak Khuzdul then?"

"No, we're not supposed to speak it in front of outsiders at all. We could use Iglishmek," Fili suggested distractedly, adjusting the way the fur collar fell across his chest.

"I'm not so good with that," Kili said, making a face.

"Then you'd better learn," Nori said.

Fili and Kili jumped, spinning around to see her standing behind them. Kili hadn't even realized that she had entered the room.

"If there's an emergency you need to be able to communicate with everyone in the company," she said. "Bifur understands everything just fine, but since the axe he's lost the ability to speak Westron and he sometimes loses words in Khuzdul if he's stressed or tired. He doesn't have any problems with Iglishmek, though. I'll ask Bofur to teach you."

"Couldn't you teach us?" Fili asked. Kili tried to hide his grin. Good thinking, big brother! Bofur was funny and nice, but Nori was mysterious and sexy.

Nori chuckled, saying, "I'd better not. You'd end up learning thieves' cant along with standard Iglishmek and then your mother would kill me."

"There's thieves' cant in Iglishmek?" Kili asked. 

"Who needs to be able to communicate silently more than a bunch of thieves?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Kili watched appreciatively as Nori sauntered off. "I think I may be in love," he told Fili.

Fili snorted. "I wouldn't mention that around Dwalin if I were you."

***

Ori looked at the pony. The pony looked at her and snorted dismissively.

"I don't think this is going to work," Ori said.

"You'll be fine," Nori said. "You just need to show the pony who's in charge."

Ori looked back at the pony. It seemed to be eyeing her in a sinister fashion. "How do I do that?" she asked, but Nori was already halfway to the other side of the stable yard.

"Here, Miss Ori, let me show you," Bofur said, smiling kindly. "Mistress Knives don't like to admit it, but she's not the best with ponies either."

Bofur showed her the basics of how to handle the pony. Ori was grateful for his kindness and patience considering that she had never even touched a pony before, much less ridden one.

After the brief, impromptu riding lesson, Ori finally worked up her courage to ask something she'd been wondering for quite some time. "Master Bofur, why do you call my sister Mistress Knives?"

Bofur chuckled, rubbing his hand over his moustache sheepishly. "Oh, that... it's because every time I met her she was using a different name. I finally decided to make up a name for her, and Mistress Knives seemed to suit her the best."

"Because she carries a lot of knives?"

"And because she's as sharp as one." Bofur shrugged. "She didn't seem to mind the nickname, so it stuck."

Bofur was called away to take a look at one of the other ponies. Ori had nothing to do but wait, feeling a little lost in the chaos of everyone loading the ponies up and getting ready to move. She figured it would be best to stay put where she was, so she stood by her pony and waited for someone to tell her what to do.

Eventually Dori came by, scolded Ori for "disappearing" on her (Ori didn't even bother to protest against that injustice), and told her to mount up. Ori shivered with a mix of excitement and apprehension. 

They were leaving Ered Luin.

***

It felt like they'd been riding for hours by the time that the tunnel ahead slowly grew brighter. They turned a final corner and rode out into a beautiful early spring day. The caravan trail sloped down a lovely mountain meadow, sprinkled with tiny white flowers.

Nori grinned, feeling the cool breeze on her face. "Finally," she said. In the distance, all of Middle Earth lay spread out before her like a promise.

Beside her, Dwalin was slanting a much less impressed look up at the sky. He had maneuvered his pony next to hers when they first headed out and seemed determined to keep that spot no matter what. Really, Nori should have expected it.

"What?" she asked him.

"Dwarves belong underground," he grumbled.

"Oh. You're Stone Born," she said. "I should have realized. Please tell me you don't get vertigo from the feeling that the sky is falling away from you." Some Dwarves who had spent most of their lives under the mountains had problems adjusting to the surface world.

Dwalin glowered at her. "I have been out of the mountains before. Walked halfway across Middle Earth, in fact. Twice."

"All right," Nori said, holding her hands up in surrender. "I concede that you are a seasoned world traveler."

Dwalin nodded, mollified, and they rode in silence for a few minutes. "I'm just not all that fond of the bloody weather on the surface," he grumbled. "Mark my words, it'll be pissing down rain soon."

"Rain isn't bad," Nori said. "Snow is what I really hate."

"You get cold easily?" Dwalin asked.

"Yeah." She frowned at him and asked, "How did you guess?"

"You don't have enough flesh on your bones to keep you warm," he shrugged.

"Thanks for that," she said, rolling her eyes. Yes, she was perfectly aware that she was skinny and bony, thank you, it didn't need pointing out.

"I'll knit you a scarf," Ori piped up from behind them.

With a start, Nori realized that both of her sisters had been listening to her and Dwalin... not flirt. Argue. That had definitely been arguing.

"Thank you, little gem," she told Ori, who beamed at her.

"I'll make one for you too, Master Dwalin," Ori said. "Dark green for you and dark blue for Nori. To match your jerkins."

Lady Dis had insisted that they keep the leather jerkins they had borrowed from her for the trip to the Undercity, saying that on this kind of journey an extra layer of protection would be a good idea. Which left Dwalin wearing Nori's dark green, which made her feel pleased and possessive, and Nori wearing the royal blue and silver of the line of Durin, which made Dwalin feel like fucking her through the floor, if she was correctly interpreting the look in his eyes when he'd first seen her wearing the jerkin.

Now Ori was offering to make both of them scarves in each others' colors. Nori wasn't entirely sure if Ori understood the significance of that kind of gift. Traditionally, the close family members of Dwarves who were courting made gifts for their future family-by-law to welcome them into the family.

"That's not--" Nori started to say, but Dwalin neatly interrupted her.

"I would be very pleased and proud to wear a scarf of your crafting, little one," Dwalin said, leaving Nori unable to refuse the gift without hurting Ori's feelings.

She made sure Ori couldn't see her face as she glowered at Dwalin, who grinned at her smugly. He knew exactly what he'd just done.

***

The Mithril Hand lieutenant knocked on a nondescript door in an inn in Lowtown. He glanced nervously at his two soldiers as they waited for a response. 

"Enter," a husky female voice called from within. They opened the door to find their employer standing in front of a map of Middle Earth that had been pinned to the wall of the room. Keeping her back to them, she asked, "Well?"

"They're gone," the lieutenant reported. "We checked the house and there's no sign of them."

"Where did they go? Did they leave with a caravan?" she asked.

"We don't know," he said after glancing at his soldiers uncertainly.

The woman spun around and glared at them. "Well then go and find out. Do I have to do everything myself?"

The lieutenant straightened up, his pride stung. "No, mistress," he said. Spinning around, he jerked his head at his soldiers to follow and left the room, closing the door gently behind them.

One of his soldiers started to swear and the lieutenant backhanded him before he could get the word out. "Do you want to die?" he demanded. "Idiot. Let's go."

In the room, the scarred woman sighed, massaging her temples. This would teach her to subcontract to criminals. Not a functioning brain among the lot of them.

She turned to the map of Middle Earth again, tracing the possible routes from Ered Luin to Dracadelf. Would they take the well-traveled East Road, or would they try the riskier but more direct Greenway? The ford at Tharbad was a madman's gamble, but if the old Dwarf was in charge, she would guess that he would try for that.

Two choices, one chance to catch up to them before they reached the door to Dracadelf. Gambling everything on one roll of the die.

Sitting at the table in the center of the room, she shuffled through a collection of maps, noting distances and routes on a scroll. She lost track of time and didn't notice the tentative knock on the door.

The door opened and she snarled and threw a knife across the room. It stuck in the doorframe about an inch from the face of the Mithril Hand lieutenant, who stared at it with wide eyes. "Report," she ordered.

He gulped. "Ah, yes, I have word from the watchers in the Undercity. The Dwarves you seek left with the caravan of a smuggler known as Veirik by the Undercity tunnels three days ago."

"Headed in which direction?"

"The Shire, reportedly."

Well then. She had a direction and a trail to follow. She stood from the table and threw a pouch full of gems at the lieutenant. "Give that to your masters. Our business here is done."

Now that catching the old Dwarf in Ered Luin had failed, she would track them across country alone.

She worked better on her own anyway.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dwalin has mixed feelings about snow and there is huddling for warmth. (And porn.)

The weather held sunny and warm for the first few days of travel down to the foothills of the Blue Mountains. They made excellent time, though of course a caravan of over three dozen Dwarves, plus their riding and pack ponies, took longer to make and break camp than a smaller group would have.

Dwalin almost always rode beside Nori as they traveled, enjoying her sly sense of humor and the way she was absolutely fearless about arguing her point whenever they disagreed. Meals were a different matter. Either her sister Dori would swoop in, full of disapproving frowns for him, or that damned smuggler Veirik would sit entirely too close to her as they laughed about old times. The nights were even worse, because Dori's disapproval of sitting too close to her sister was nothing next to her ferociousness regarding the very idea of Dwalin sleeping near Nori.

Dwalin bit his tongue and did not protest that he and Nori were engaged and could share a bedroll without scandal, as long as that was all they shared. But as far as Nori, and the law, was concerned all that lay between them was a civil oath of fealty. Dwalin tried to think of it that way, he really did, but it was hard enough convincing his hind-brain that they were not already wed after they lay together that night in the drawing room. 

It seemed they had done everything backwards, having been engaged to each other, lain together, and now they were nothing at all to each other, officially at least. Dwalin took heart from the fact that Nori was flirting with him, though whether it was consciously or not he could not tell.

He meant what he said about not pressing her for anything she did not want. But unless or until Nori told him flat-out to go away and dissolve his bond to her, Dwalin was going to take this opportunity to court her properly.

If only he could get in a word edgewise against that damned smuggler.

*** 

"Quit baiting Dwalin."

"I don't know what you mean." Veirik puffed away at his pipe, looking amused.

Nori gave him a disbelieving look. "Telling the whole company the story about that time we hid in a brothel's bathhouse? Offering to rub my shoulders because, and I quote, "I know exactly how you like it"? You're not being subtle, Veirik."

Veirik spread his hands out imploringly. "I'm doing you a favor! That big warrior of yours is just going to follow you around pining forever unless he gets a good swift kick in the ass."

Nori pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. "I'm going to give you a good swift kick in the balls if you don't cut it out."

"Fox, you know I'm an incurable romantic," Veirik said, widening his eyes and tilting his head slightly. "I just want to see you happy."

"The puppy-dog look doesn't work on me," Nori said. "I travel with the trouble twins. They are much better at it than you are, believe me." 

Veirik kept up the look, his eyes somehow widening even more. "Fox. How long have we been friends?"

"Too bloody long," she snorted. "If Dwalin challenges you to single combat, you are on your own."

***

The third morning out of the mountain dawned with dark clouds and gusty winds. The Dwarves who possessed a good sense for weather looked to the sky worriedly. The whole caravan was tense as they hurried along under a heavy sky.

The first few fat flakes drifted out of the sky in late afternoon, followed before long by a thick, heavy snow that clumped and stuck everywhere it touched. The word came down the line of ponies that they were to stop and make an early camp, since they would lose the light early due to the heavy cloud cover.

They chose a lightly wooded area where the ponies had access to water from a small stream and shelter from the snow under a stand of pine trees. The area had clearly once been settled. There were the remains of stone walls scattered amongst the trees, only two to three feet tall, all that remained of a few structures. They took advantage of this stroke of good luck by creating lean-tos from broken branches leaned against the walls, covering the structures with tarpaulins. 

Dwalin had slept in much poorer shelter in worse weather. Once the ponies were settled and camp was set up, he crawled under his own tarpaulin and stripped out of his wet outer clothes down to his shirt and braies. He made a cold dinner out of salted beef and hard bread and then rolled himself up in his blanket to sleep. The snow was coming down too heavily to keep a fire lit and besides, all the wood was wet.

"Fuck, it's cold out here. I really hope this is your lean-to, Dwalin," Nori said as she poked her head under the edge of the tarpaulin near his feet. "It is! Make some room," she said, barely waiting for him to roll closer to the wall before crawling in and stretching out next to him.

She was coated in a thin layer of snow, from her hair to her boots. "Have I ever told you how much I hate snow?" she asked in a conversational tone. "Because it's a lot."

Leaning up on one elbow, Dwalin stared at her in bewilderment. "What are you doing here, lass?"

"The thought of being trapped for hours in a tiny lean-to with both of my sisters was making me want to run out into the snow screaming. I told Dori I was going to sleep with Grimr. I think she's still trying to figure out whether she feels relieved that I'm gone or horribly jealous that Grimr is supposedly cuddling with me."

"Are you sleeping here then?" Mahal, he hoped so. 

"If that's alright with you," she said, blinking up at him. Her eyelashes were wet and spiky with melted snow. "I can leave if you don't want me here."

"What are you expecting of me?" Dwalin asked carefully. In the Undercity, she had said the night they'd lain together was a mistake and they shouldn't do it again, so he was (understandably, he thought) leery of making any assumptions.

She squinted at him in confusion. "Sex?" It sounded like a question, so Dwalin waited for her to go on. After a pause, she said, "I, Nori daughter of Kori, would like to fuck you, Dwalin son of Fundin, in this shitty little lean-to. Very carefully, because I'm pretty sure if we get too energetic... it'll... collapse." The last three words were muffled as she spoke them against Dwalin's lips in between kisses.

Her lips and nose were cold, he noticed. As if on cue, a hard shiver went through her body. "We should get you out of those wet clothes," he said without thinking how it sounded.

"Oh ho, and will you keep me warm then?" she asked, smirking. "Big strong warrior like you?"

Exasperated, he growled, "Get naked, woman."

Nori laughed and started removing her clothing, the heavy wet cloak and snow-coated boots first, followed by her knife belt and bracers, which appeared to have knife sheaths built into them. She removed her leather jerkin and long-sleeved tunic, leaving her stripped to her linen shirt on top. She still wore trousers, wet where the snow had melted on them, and the knife sheaths on her thighs, which were mounted with a curious system of straps and buckles holding them in place. 

She shuddered again, her nipples standing out hard against the thin fabric of her shirt. Dwalin went to cover her with his blanket and she waved him off, saying, "I'd better take off my trousers first, or I'm going to get melting snow all over your nice warm blanket."

Dwalin watched, fascinated, as she unbuckled a belt that rode low around her hips and the whole system of straps and buckles loosened. He traced a finger along a strap that buckled high up around one of her thighs. 

"Normally, I'd stab a man who got that close to my knives without permission," she said huskily. He paused and met her eyes, which were blown dark with lust. "You have my permission," she said.

Dwalin bowed his head. "I am honored." He went back to tracing the straps, finding that the system actually wasn't as complicated as it looked at first. Two straps around each thigh and two straps attached diagonally to the belt on either side kept the knives positioned properly on her body while giving her freedom of movement. "This is fine work," he said, running a finger over the embossed designs that covered the leather straps.

She looked pleased. "Thank you."

" _Your_ work?" Dwalin asked, impressed.

"That it is," she agreed, raising her hips so that she could wriggle the straps off her hips and down her thighs. She unbuttoned her trousers and slid the whole thing off at once, leaving her in her thin linen shirt and braies in the cold air of the lean-to, which was only a little warmer than the air outside. Nori shivered hard and Dwalin reached out and rolled her inside the blanket with him.

She shivered and laughed at the same time, grinning at him, and Dwalin just had to kiss her for that, deep and slow, feeling her smile against his lips. Two icy cold hands slid against his ribs then, and he jumped and swore as he tried to pull away.

"Thought you were going to keep me warm," she said, pouting a little.

"Mahal fucking _wept_ , are those your hands or hand-shaped icicles?" He grabbed her hands and pulled them up to his mouth, rubbing them between his hands and blowing warm air on them. 

Warm air wasn't going to cut it. Dwalin folded her hands into his and held them against his chest under his shirt. 

She was looking at him with a strange quirk to her mouth, as if surprised by what he was doing. 

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing important," she said, leaning forward to kiss him again.

She spread her hands against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into his body. They kissed until Dwalin lost track of time and his cock was straining against his braies.

He slid his hand down her chest, pausing to pinch and play with her hardened nipples, to her belly. He spread his fingers over the slight softness of her lower belly before slipping his fingers under the waistband of her braies. She sighed happily and shifted to make it easier for him to reach inside and slide his hand down over the mound of her sex. He spread his hand out and stroked with his middle finger along the edges of her cunt, then slipped his finger between them to where she was hot and wet. 

Intent on following what he was doing with his finger, she had stopped kissing him for a moment and was just breathing against his mouth. He flicked the tip of his finger against her pearl and felt her breath catch. She smiled against his mouth and kissed him again lazily as he stroked his finger against her. He curled his finger in, then, stroking over the faintly uneven skin to where her hot, wet treasure hid. 

"Oh, yes," she hissed as he hooked his finger inside of her, feeling for the spot that made her quiver and shake when he pressed against it. 

Her eyes opened as he watched and she looked at him, her mouth curved with a lopsided smile. 

"What?" he asked.

"Just thinking of what we can do without collapsing the lean-to on top of us," she said. "Sadly, I think there's no way to work it so that you can pleasure me with your mouth. Because by Mahal's great furry balls, you're good at that."

Dwalin grinned, aware that he probably looked completely smug. But why shouldn't he, after a compliment like that? "Aye, lass, I'd love to lay you out on a big bed and suck on your pearl until you're begging me to fuck you again."

"Tease," she growled, nipping his ear sharply. "Just for that, I'm going to mention that it's too bad I didn't get the chance to polish your axe that night. With my tongue."

Dwalin groaned. "Cruel, woman."

She straddled him under the blanket, leaning close to him due to the short headroom, and curled her hand under the edge of his braies. "I'm going to take you apart," she said into his ear.

She knew just how to tease and play with his cockhead and foreskin, until he was groaning and thrusting up into her hand. Nori watched his face as she stroked her hand firmly up his cock with a twist at the end that made his toes curl. 

"You keep doing that and I'm going to go over the edge."

She lightened her touch then, stroking her fingers softly over the length of his cock, too light to be anything but a tease. "I have an idea," she said.

"Yes?" Dwalin asked, about ready to agree to anything as long as it involved coming.

"Get naked," she ordered as she rolled to the side and stripped off her own underclothing, careful to stay under the blanket. Dwalin followed suit and then waited for her instruction. "On your side, facing me."

Dwalin wasn't sure how that was going to work, but he complied.

She rolled on her left side with her back to him, reaching behind herself to stroke his cock with her right hand. He figured out what she was after then, and reached over her body with his right hand to slide his hand over her cunt. "That's it," she sighed, tipping her head back. 

Dwalin kissed her neck as he teased her with his fingers, flicking her pearl with the tips of his fingers then sliding his middle finger into her again, pumping a couple of times before retreating to tease her pearl again. She groaned, her hips shifting restlessly as she continued to pump his cock with her hand.

The line of her neck was long, pale, and tempting. Dwalin teased her skin with his teeth, nipping a little to figure out whether she liked it. "Biting is definitely a good thing," she said.

That was one of the things he really loved about Nori: she was not shy to tell him exactly what she wanted and how she wanted it.

Dwalin mouthed the soft skin of her neck before setting his teeth and biting her, gently at first and then harder as she groaned, her fingers gripping his cock tighter, almost to the edge of pain before he let up. He nuzzled at her neck, admiring the red bite mark. "That's going to show," he said, not sure if he was apologizing or boasting.

"Got a bit of werewolf in you, do you?" she teased, twisting her hand over the leaking head of his cock. Dwalin snarled against her neck, biting her again a little higher on her neck than the first bite. At the same time, he slid his index and middle fingers into her cunt and pumped mercilessly, the heel of his hand pressing against her pearl.

"Ah!" she gasped, throwing her head back. Around his fingers, she tightened down hard and then suddenly released, rhythmic pulses going through her flesh as her passage grew slick with her passion.

Her hand slackened as she collapsed back against his chest, panting. Dwalin buried his nose in her hair, savoring the rich scent of her while he waited for her to recover.

She turned her head to kiss him, somewhat awkwardly, over her shoulder. "Mmmm," she said, wriggling a little. Dwalin's hips bucked without his conscious say-so, streaking her lower back with pre-come. 

"Hold still," she said, grasping his cock with one hand and guiding it to the entrance of her passage. Dwalin's eyes squeezed shut as he felt the hot, wet, _tight_ slide of her cunt around the head of his cock.

She groaned and pressed herself back and down, taking his cock in slowly with short pauses to adjust. Dwalin bit his lip, fisted his hand in the bedroll in front of her, and waited out the urgent need to thrust until his cock was fully seated inside of her.

" _Mahal_ ," she groaned, pausing for a few moments and then shifting up again, sinuously curling her hips until he was just about losing his mind from holding still. "All right," she said. "Fuck me into the bedroll."

Dwalin braced his right arm on the bedroll in front of her, leaning over her slightly, and started with slow, shallow thrusts. He knew she could take him, but at the back of his mind he saw how much smaller she was than him and worried about injuring her.

"Harder," she said. He slid his right leg over hers and started fucking her harder. She smacked his ass and ordered, "Harder!" and he rolled on top of her and fucked her hard and deep, loving the way she moaned as he fucked her.

The blanket was getting too hot. He threw it off his shoulders and fucked her hard, harder, until the rising pitch of her cries hit a crest and he could feel her tightening down on his cock and then releasing rhythmically, coming, as he roared out his pleasure and finished inside of her.

He hung his head, panting, as he held himself up on his elbows to keep himself from crushing her. After a few minutes, he carefully pulled out of her and rolled onto his side again. She rolled with him, her back pressed to his chest and stomach, and he located the blanket and tucked it over both of them. 

He slid his arm around her middle and buried his nose in her hair. "Will you be gone when I wake again, lass?" he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"Depends on how you feel about putting up with a restless sleeper," she said.

"I think I can handle it." He closed his eyes, beginning to drift off.

"It's the snow," she said so quietly that he almost missed it. "It makes me think about... things that I'd prefer not to. I get bad dreams." In a more conversational tone, she added, "So I apologize in advance if I end up punching you in my sleep."

"S'allright," he mumbled. "Long as you don't knife me, we're good."

She snorted quietly with laughter. 

Smiling, he held her in his arms and drifted off to sleep.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Company of Thorin Oakenshield travels to the Shire and has an Unexpected Party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who has left comments and kudos for this story. Foxes and Geese is now officially the longest story I have ever written, and I'm afraid that I would never have gotten this far without you guys cheering me on in the comments. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
> 
> Based on my wikipedia research, the instrument Dwalin plays during the movie appears to be a rebec, a medieval instrument later replaced by the viol, which is what he plays in the book. Bofur appears to be playing a recorder, a very popular instrument during the medieval era later replaced by the flute, which he plays in the book. I've based the Dwarven dances on Scottish Country Dancing and Highland Dance, though since my research was once again wikipedia-fuelled I apologize for any inaccuracies.

The morning after the snowstorm dawned clear, with brilliant sunshine that soon started the snow melting. 

Nori awoke first, feeling very warm despite the lack of fire. Dwalin radiated heat like a forge. She could hear the sounds of the caravan waking up outside of the dim cave of their lean-to. 

Dwalin's arm was still wrapped around her waist, his face buried in her hair. He was breathing slowly and steadily with a faint snore on every inhale. She attempted to slip out from under his arm without waking him. 

He stirred before she got too far, his arm tightening around her waist. "Sneaking off?" he mumbled.

"Putting my clothes back on before some idiot decides we've been buried alive under here."

He made a grumpy noise, nuzzling his face into her hair. She was certain the peaks had fallen out and her braid was probably half gone. End result: long red hair everywhere. Dwalin didn't appear to be complaining though. "Nori, lass, I'd be happy to wake--"

Dori said loudly, "I don't know where Nori is if she isn't with you." It sounded like she was standing right outside the lean-to. Nori and Dwalin both froze, barely breathing.

"I haven't seen her in a little while," Grimr said calmly. Which was completely true, with a liberal interpretation of the phrase "in a little while." "But I'm sure she's just helping out with the caravan somewhere. Say, Mistress Dori, they've started some water boiling on the fire. Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"That sounds lovely, thank you." Dori's voice trailed off as they walked away.

"That was close," Nori said. "I'll have to thank Grimr for covering for me." Dwalin made a fervent noise of agreement and she asked, "Why are you so relieved?"

"Your sister terrifies me."

"You're a proven warrior and the biggest Dwarf I've ever seen. Why are you scared of Dori?"

Dwalin's eyes widened. "Because I'm not bloody stupid!"

Nori laughed so hard that she almost knocked over the lean-to.

In the rush to get dressed before Dori got suspicious, she managed to neatly avoid talking to Dwalin about anything more substantial than "pass me that knife belt" and "I think you're sitting on my shirt." 

Last night had been another mistake. She had a bad feeling he'd been about to make a declaration when they'd been interrupted by Dori. 

It was her fault, she admitted. She shouldn't be encouraging Dwalin's delusion that they could ever be together in the long run. She was a thief and he was a guardsman; she was a commoner and he was of noble birth; and there was no way to reconcile those two sets of facts. And underlying everything, though she barely even admitted it to herself, was the fear that if she let him get attached, some day he'd get himself killed for her. 

She didn't go to him again at night. She started to ride with Grimr or Ori during the day, avoiding riding next to Dwalin. It was better than leading Dwalin on, she assured herself, feeling guilty nevertheless.

They were to accompany Veirik's caravan to a place called Michel Delving in the Shire, where the caravan meant to stop and sell their wares. After that they would part ways, the caravan continuing on to the Great East Road while the Company of Thorin Oakenshield (as Ori insisted on calling it) headed southeast to the Greenway.

The White Downs were a peaceful but empty place. The rolling green hills were covered in long grass and occasional patches of stubby trees and inhabited only by birds and small animals. Kili took to riding with his bow strung and ready to take down conies and fat, speckled birds for their dinners.

The land gradually shifted and grew less abandoned-looking as the weather grew warmer. They began to see evidence that it was inhabited in the form of farm fields and far-off flocks of sheep. Still they did not see any houses or buildings. This confused them greatly until Ori noticed round doors and windows set into the side of a hill.

"Do Hobbits live underground?" Nori asked Grimr. They were riding together today, with Ori and Dori just behind them.

"They do, in fact. They hollow out little hills and live in burrows like rabbits."

"Do they look like rabbits?" Ori asked eagerly.

Grimr paused and seemed to give it some thought. "Well, they do have pointed ears and great big feet. They're a bit like rabbits, I suppose."

Ori cocked her head to the side, clearly trying to picture it. "Do they have fur?"

Grimr opened his mouth, glanced back at Dori, and appeared to change his mind about whatever he'd been planning to say. "Only on their feet. I'm afraid they're not that much like rabbits, little one. They look more like Men or Elves, only smaller than Dwarves."

"Oh," Ori said, looking disappointed.

The land slowly shifted from grasslands to woodlands. Trees covered hills wound about with little chuckling streams. The road followed the contours of the hills, turning them around and about till even Nori, who had travelled extensively on the surface, began to feel a little lost.

At mid-morning they came to an unmarked crossroads and the call to halt came down the line. Nori decided to ride to the head of the caravan to see what the delay was for. Dori, Ori, and Grimr followed her, either out of curiosity or sheer habit.

Reaching the front of the caravan, Nori dismounted with relief. She had forgotten how much she hated traveling by pony, though Mahal knew it was better by far than walking.

"What's the holdup?" Nori asked Veirik, who appeared to be looking at a stained and worn old map.

"Just checking our bearings, Fox," he said with his professional bullshitter smile. "Nothing to be concerned about."

Using the excuse of looking at the map, she leaned over his shoulder and asked quietly, "How badly are we lost?"

"Don't be ridiculous, we're not lost." He paused and looked at the map again. "Possibly we're a little misplaced."

"Where are you trying to go? I could guide you," a voice said seemingly out of nowhere. Nori looked up sharply and saw a child standing at the side of the road just a few feet from them, where she could have sworn no one had been standing a moment ago.

"Where in Mahal's name did you come from?" Veirik asked.

"I was standing here the whole time," the child said. "Not my fault you didn't notice me." The child was dressed quite strangely, in a dingy white shirt, trousers that only went down to a little below the knee and were held up by suspenders, and no shoes at all.

"Where are your parents?" Dori asked, fairly radiating maternal concern.

"Gone," the child answered shortly. And now Nori was reassessing her impression of the child's age, because that was a very adult-sounding tone of flat dismissal.

"You must be a Hobbit!" Ori said. She turned to Grimr and said very disapprovingly, "Hobbits do not look like rabbits _at all_."

"I certainly should say not!" the Hobbit said indignantly. "And if you're going to say such ridiculous nonsense, perhaps I shall retract my offer to guide you!" The Hobbit appeared to be a female of their race, though either she was too young to have whiskers or else Hobbit women were just as hairless around the face as the women of the race of Men.

"Peace, Miss Hobbit," Grimr said. "I was only teasing young Ori. I apologize, it was in poor taste."

"Apology accepted," she said graciously.

"We don't need a guide, though I thank you for the offer," Veirik said. "Only tell us which way to take to get to Michel Delving and we'll be on our way."

"If I give you directions, you'll be lost within a mile," the Hobbit said. "No offense, but Big People always get lost in the Shire. No matter whether you have a map." She gave the map a deeply unimpressed look.

"Then will you guide us?" Veirik asked with the tone of a man whose patience was being greatly tested.

The Hobbit looked them over, her eyes lingering on the heavily-laden packs on the ponies. "I'll do it for two silvers."

"One silver and you have a deal."

"Done."

Though she seemed aghast at the thought of riding on a pony, they were eventually able to convince her that a Hobbit couldn't comfortably keep up with ponies for hours at a time. Really, Ori was the one who finally convinced her by telling the Hobbit that she could ride with Ori on her pony, Apple.

(The pony's name was not originally Apple. Forgetting herself in her excitement, Ori had told the Hobbit the name of the pony in Khuzdul. The Hobbit had attempted to repeat what she had said and had mangled it into "Apple," a replacement name that everyone embraced with relief.)

"Ori, daughter of Kori, at your service," Ori introduced herself after the incident with the pony's name. 

"Oh, where are my manners? Bell Baggins, very pleased to meet you," the Hobbit said. "Or, how did you phrase that? Bellflower, daughter of Belladonna, at your service."

Ori and the Hobbit chattered away as they rode, with Ori asking her many questions about Hobbits and the Shire. Though Bell seemed happy to answer all of her questions, Nori noted that she subtly diverted any personal questions into general information about Hobbits.

Nori wasn't particularly surprised by that, though. Change the race to Dwarven and that could have been Nori's younger self standing there, with a look of wariness in her eyes and clothing that was wearing out at the cuffs and knees. Said similarity meant that Nori was going to keep an eye on their new little friend's fingers, lest they find their way into anyone's coinpurse.

With Bell guiding them, they found their way to Michel Delving by late afternoon. Veirik negotiated with a pompous, pot-bellied Hobbit for permission to set up the caravan in a meadow near their town. The Hobbit seemed torn between distrust of strangers and excitement about their trade wares.

"I thought that Balin said the Hobbits weren't much interested in trading with Dwarves when we first came to Ered Luin," Nori said when Veirik returned to the caravan.

"They probably tried selling them weapons and armor," Veirik said. "Of course Hobbits aren't going to be interested in trading if that's what you're offering them. You have to figure out what the customer wants. Hobbits like useful things like pots and pans, silverware, fabric, that sort of thing. They like jewelry a little bit, but only if it's not too ostentatious." Grinning, he flicked one of the heavy golden loops in his ears.

Turning to the caravan as a whole, he clapped his hands and called loudly, "All right, let's settle in and get set up. Customers are going to be on us like bees on honey first thing tomorrow morning." He strode off, calling orders and cracking jokes with the members of the caravan.

Dori made a thoughtful humming noise. "He may be obnoxious and a criminal, but Master Veirik does know his business." That was practically a ringing endorsement coming from Dori.

Holding hands, Ori led her new best friend over to them. 

"Can Bell stay for dinner?" Ori asked Dori. The Hobbit stood a little behind Ori, looking carefully neutral.

Dori frowned. "Don't you have somewhere you should be getting back to, Miss Baggins? Besides, I don't know whether we'll be able to take down any wild game around here without the townfolk getting upset with us. Dinner may be salted meat again," she sighed.

"I can show your hunters where there's shared open land where no one will mind if they hunt," Bell said. "In exchange for dinner."

Dori gave her a shrewd look then nodded. "Fair deal. Ori, introduce her to Kili and he'll show her around to the other hunters."

Looking excited, Ori and Bell ran off. Nori watched them go, then turned to Dori and said, "I'm surprised you're encouraging Ori to spend time with an outsider."

Dori pursed her lips. "I don't see any harm to it. It'll do Ori some good to spend a little time around a girl her own age. Even if she is a Hobbit."

"Of course," Nori said, deciding not to tease Dori right now about taking pity on a poor, orphaned Hobbit. She'd save that for a more opportune time, when she really wanted to annoy the hell out of her sister.

After camp was set up, the members of the caravan arranged themselves around the main campfires, mending gear or taking care of last-minute crafting while there was still light to work by. The hunters returned triumphant before dusk, laden with conies and wild ducks. 

There was a feeling of festival as the sun went down. The warm air filled with the rich scent of fresh stew and Veirik gave the order to break open some casks of ale. 

After filling her bowl with stew and her mug with ale, Nori made her way to the smaller campfire where the "Company of Thorin Oakenshield" had settled themselves. She bypassed the open spot next to Dwalin and sat next to Grimr instead, despite Grimr's raised eyebrow.

"My jewel," Grimr greeted her. "Is there a reason I've been blessed with your company tonight?" 

"Shut it, old man," she said without any heat. "Can't I choose to sit with my oldest friend without being questioned?"

"All right, all right," he said, raising his hands. "I'll drop it. For now." He looked away then, distracted. Nori followed his eyes to Dori, who stood laughing with Bifur at something Bofur was saying. Dori was effortlessly carrying a full cask of ale with one arm.

"Grimr," Nori said, leaning closer and lowering her voice. "I'm telling you this as a dear friend--"

"Is this where you tell me not to hurt your sister or they'll never find the body?" he asked.

"No. This is where I warn you, as my dear friend, that if you steal or grift while you are romantically involved with Dori, she will rip your arms off. And I do mean that quite literally."

Grimr gazed wistfully at Dori. "Mahal, what a woman."

Dori and Bifur roared with laughter as Bofur flopped on his back, waving his arms and legs in the air like an overturned turtle. Shaking her head and grinning, Dori walked towards where the other casks of ale had been set up.

"I have warned you," Nori said. "And now I wash my hands of it. Oh, and please, please never tell me any details."

Grimr snorted. "Between the two of us, which one is it who shares more intimate details than the other one has ever wanted to know? Oh, I know--that would be you, you shameless hussy. Now run along so that I can flirt with your sister in peace," he said as Dori dropped off the cask and began walking back towards their campfire with a full bowl of stew and a mug of ale.

"Gladly," Nori said.

Finished with her dinner, she washed her bowl and mug out at the basins of water that were set up to the side of camp and left them to dry.

Someone started playing a traditional reel on a fiddle. The tune was soon picked up by a number of instruments as Dwarves with musical inclinations joined in. Nori was pleased to see that a clear space had been opened up for dancers between two of the campfires.

Though she had learned to dance for the most pragmatic of reasons--dancing made you light on your feet, graceful, and quick, all useful qualities for a thief--she had quickly discovered that she enjoyed dancing for its own sake. Nori began clapping her hands to the rhythm as she joined the dancers.

The dances cycled between traditional country dance, with partners stepping in pattern together, and solo dances, with everyone trying to outdo each other on the most intricate of steps. Dis, Ori, and surprisingly enough Bifur joined the dancers. To the side, Bell danced what Nori assumed were traditional Hobbit dances. Among the musicians, Fili and Kili played fiddles side by side and Bofur played his recorder. Nori was surprised to notice Dwalin near them playing a rebec, the instrument looking incongruously fragile next to his knuckledusters. 

There was a brief pause between songs and someone--Nori suspected Bofur to be the culprit--called for the dagger dance, a call that was quickly echoed by the crowd. All of the dancers but Nori left the dance space, leaving her standing alone between the fires. "Begin the solo dance," she called to the musicians.

"Wait!" To her surprise, Kili hurried out into the dance space. "Would you dance the daggers with me?" he asked politely.

"I would be pleased to," Nori nodded. Though he was mainly known for his archery, she had seen him training with Dwalin and knew that Kili was also skilled with long daggers. She gestured to the musicians and the drummers began playing the beat of the paired dagger dance. 

Nori and Kili met at the center of the dance space, clasped forearms in greeting, then took two steps back and simultaneously drew their long daggers with either hand. They stepped towards each other again, crossed daggers, and then as the rhythm of the song built up and the other instruments joined in, they started circling each other, stepping in and out as their blades flashed in the traditional steps.

Though the steps were choreographed, the dance could be deadly if one of them misstepped badly. Nori was cautious at first until she had the measure of Kili's skill with the dagger. She smiled her approval and stopped taking it easy on him, throwing herself into the dance without hesitation.

Nori felt the blood in her veins sing as they danced. They circled and met, thrust and parried, moving faster and faster until with a final clash of blades and thunder of drums, the dance ended. The audience exploded with a roar.

Nori sheathed her daggers and stepped forward to clasp forearms with Kili again, symbolically indicating that they had made truce with one another. "You danced well," she told him.

"I am honored to have crossed daggers with a true master of the dance," he said, grinning and pushing the sweat-dampened hair out of his face.

Turning to face the audience, they bowed and then raised their arms in triumph. Nori caught Dwalin's eyes in the crowd. He was staring at her with hot, dark eyes and an expression on his face that could have been interpreted as anger, but she knew better. Nori tried to ignore the shiver of arousal that went through her as she turned away.

Dancing was thirsty work. Nori took the mug of ale that someone pressed upon her and drained it in one long gulp. It was immediately replaced by another full mug, which she held high as she and Kili walked back through the crowd to the campfire where the Company sat.

"Let's hear it for the Mistress of the Blades!" Bofur called. They all cheered, even Dori joining in despite her general disapproval of Nori's skill with knives.

"And for Kili, dagger dancer!" Nori replied, grabbing Kili's hand and raising their joined hands high in the air. Kili turned red and beamed as the Company cheered for both of them.

The drinking and carousing went on long into the night. Kili seemed to be riding high on the Company's approval, laughing and joking with Bofur and sticking close to Nori's side.

And though Nori often felt Dwalin's eyes on her, she kept her promise to herself and did not go to him, much though she longed to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wikipedia tells me that the dagger dance (dirk dance), a Scottish dance performed while brandishing a dirk, is a thing that actually existed! That was too awesome not to make use of.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Company has a lovely day in the Shire... for the most part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves, darlings. (More specific warnings in the end notes.)

The next morning, the meadow where the caravan had stopped was transformed into a market. There was a festival feel to it, as Hobbits set up booths that sold food and Hobbit crafts among the Dwarven wares of the caravan. Hobbit families appeared as if from nowhere, the adults shopping while the children ran around and played. Kili had never seen so many children in his life.

He wasn't much interested in most of the wares sold by the Dwarven caravan or the Hobbit craftsmen, but then Kili discovered the best part of the market: Hobbits made _pies_. Little bite-sized pies, filled with apples and with a light dusting of sugar on top. 

Hobbits were _magic_ , Kili thought. He bought two little pies and ate the first in two giant bites.

Kili wandered down an aisle in the market, pretending to be window-shopping when really he was trying to avoid his brother. Who was... right there. "Morning, brother," Kili said as cheerfully as he could while trying to find an escape route.

"What do you think you're doing?" Fili asked, hooking his arm around Kili's neck and using it to drag him into a little alley between two stalls. At least now he had to reach up to do that, even if Kili still couldn't break his hold.

Kili put on his blandest expression (not his most innocent, because that would be a dead giveaway) and asked, "You mean with this pie? I'm eating it." He took an enormous bite, chewing with his mouth full right next to Fili's ear.

Of course his brother wasn't going to give up that easily. "I mean dancing the dagger dance with Nori last night."

Kili shrugged. "I didn't mean anything by it. Just wanted to show off."

"You know that couples used to do the dagger dance as part of their courting," Fili said. He let Kili out of the hold, but stood in front of him blocking the only way out. "You're not that stupid."

"So what if I did? She and Dwalin aren't together. They're not even talking right now," Kili said. Not that he'd been skulking around watching them or anything... much. But it was hard not to notice when two people went from arguing (mostly good-naturedly) all day long to not even riding near each other.

"She has to be twice your age!"

"Da was almost 70 years older than Mam." And it hadn't been a political marriage, either, not with the way their mother still teared up when she talked about their father, who'd died while she'd been pregnant with Kili.

"That's different," Fili said.

"How?" Kili really wanted to know.

Fili looked irritated, which meant that he didn't know the answer. "That's not the point!"

"Then what is the point?"

"Dwalin is courting her. You should respect that and back off," Fili said, poking Kili in the chest with his finger.

Kili knocked Fili's finger away. "If Dwalin isn't smart enough to hold onto a woman like Nori, then it's his loss."

"By Mahal's hammer, you're a little asshole sometimes," Fili said. "Fortunately a woman like Nori is never going to take a wet-behind-the-ears badger like you seriously." He looked like he felt bad about having put it so harshly, but Kili had had more than enough.

"I don't care what you think," he said, knocking Fili with his shoulder as he stormed past. "Piss off and leave me alone."

***

There was a baker's stall just up the way with fresh tarts sitting on metal racks to cool.

"Those pies smell so good," Ori said. Her stomach growled audibly and Ori turned pink and glanced at Bell, embarrassed.

Bell looked at the stall, looked back at Ori, and said, "Wait here." She fished a copper coin out of the purse tucked inside her belt and walked over to the baker's stall.

Ori waited where she had been told. She was able to see and hear the conversation at the stall but mostly hidden behind a wagon full of some kind of root vegetable.

"Good morning, Master Brown," Bell said. Her voice seemed higher and sweeter than normal.

The proprietor of the stall turned around. "Bless me, Bellflower Baggins! How are you this fine morning?"

"Well, thank you, and your family?" Bell responded politely. 

They exchanged pleasantries for a few more minutes and then the baker asked, "What can I get for you, young miss?"

"An apple tart. My grandmother says that you're the finest baker in the Shire," Bell said. "She thinks your apple tarts are much better than Mistress Goodchild's."

"Well, my goodness! Adamanta Took said that about my tarts?" The baker tucked his thumbs in his suspenders and puffed his chest out.

"My I purchase one of your apple tarts? My grandmother won't be able to make it to the market today, I'm afraid," Bell said, stretching to put a copper coin on the stall's counter.

The baker moved to pick up the coin and then paused and said, "Your cousin Adalgrim's wedding is coming up soon, isn't it?"

"Yes it is, sir. In late summer."

"I tell you what," the baker said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "You take back that coin and just remember to remind your grandmother that I do wedding cakes as well. And my cakes are also much better than Mistress Goodchild's. Here," the baker said, putting two tarts on the counter. "Take one for yourself too. Run along now!"

"Thank you, Master Brown!" Bell said, beaming at him.

Bearing a tart in either hand, Bell walked past Ori, jerking her head for Ori to follow her behind the wagon.

"You're a grifter!" Ori exclaimed cheerfully as she accepted one of the tarts.

"A what?" Bell asked.

"A grifter," Ori said. She took a bite of the tart and paused to chew and swallow before she said, "Someone who talks people into giving them money and stuff."

"I'm not a thief. I've never stolen anything." Bell was beginning to look angry.

"No, no," Ori assured her. She really didn't want to make Bell angry. If she got angry with them, she might leave, and then Ori would never see her again. "Not a thief, a grifter. Nori says being a grifter is much better because if you do it right people will thank you for taking their money."

"Nori, your sister?" Bell asked, starting to nibble at her tart. 

"Yes. She's the best at it. She and her partner Grimr."

Bell made a thoughtful noise and ate a few more bites of her tart before saying, "Ori, if you don't mind my asking... what are you doing here in the Shire? I mean, the caravan is here for trading, but you and your sisters and the others aren't traders. So why are you here?"

Ori chewed on her lower lip. She really wanted to tell Bell the truth, but she knew she wasn't supposed to. "It's a secret."

Bell looked disappointed. "Oh. I see."

Ori leaned very close to Bell's cute (not rabbit-like at all) pointed ear and said, "We're going on an adventure."

"An adventure?" Bell looked excited, then crestfallen. "I'd love to go on an adventure. I wish I could go with you."

"But wouldn't your family miss you? I mean, if you left the Shire?"

"I've been staying with my Took relatives in Great Smials since my parents died," Bell said quietly. "They're good to me, as good as they can be, but there are a lot of children to take care of and I don't belong to anyone in particular. If I went on an adventure, well..." She laughed a little, but not like it was funny at all. "Let's just say it might take them a few days to notice I was gone."

Ori squared her chin stubbornly. "I'm going to talk to my sisters. I'm sure if we tell them everything you just said, they'll have to see that you should come along."

"I doubt that they will agree, but... thank you for asking," Bell said.

Impulsively, Ori hugged her. It took a moment, but then Bell hugged her back.

***

It was a lovely morning, Grimr thought, absentmindedly swiping a handful of strawberries from a Hobbit farmer's stand. Munching on the tart early berries, he wandered along, humming under his breath. He wasn't searching for someone so much as he was waiting for her to inevitably appear. 

And there she was, right on time, standing by a booth selling trinkets and (for some strange Hobbitish reason) cut flowers.

"A lovely morning just became even lovelier," he said as he swept a bow to Dori. "You quite put the spring flowers to shame."

She tutted and tried to look exasperated while turning pink with pleasure. "Master Grimr, such nonsense."

"'Tis not nonsense when 'tis truth," Grimr said. Holding his elbow out, he asked, "Mistress Dori, would you mind accompanying me around the market?"

"Not at all," she said, resting her hand on the crook of his elbow.

"Where is young Ori?" he asked as they perused a display of Hobbit pottery. From the look on Dori's face, she was mentally critiquing their crafting and the Hobbits were coming up short.

"She wandered off with Bell," Dori said. "I'm sure she's enjoying the chance to explore the market without slowing down for her old sister." She picked up a bowl and turned it in her hands, examining the glaze.

"You are not old at all," Grimr assured her. "In fact, I could be seen as a bit of a cradle robber, courting a woman so much younger than myself."

She put the bowl back on the shelf very carefully. Taking a deep breath and then turning to face Grimr, she asked, "Is that what we're doing, then? Courting?"

"If you would do me the honor." Grimr met Dori's sapphire blue eyes and smiled as confidently as he could. It turned out that _mumble-mumble_ years old was not too old to feel butterflies in one's stomach. 

Dori opened her mouth, closed it, and then grabbed Grimr's elbow again, propelling him through the market with it. Bemused, Grimr allowed himself to be steered. Dori let him go when they reached the shelter of a tree a small distance from the market.

"Master Grimr, you are a wizard," Dori said. Grimr waited a moment to see if there was anything further to that statement, but that appeared to be the extent of her argument.

"Indeed I am," he said. "But I fail to see why that's relevant."

"Fail to see why that's--fail to see why that's relevant?" Dori demanded incredulously. "It is utterly relevant! You are a wizard!"

Grimr sighed. "It's the age difference, isn't it. Mistress Dori, trust me, the difference in our ages doesn't bother me a bit."

"How old _are_ you?" Dori asked, then shook her head. "No, no, you are not going to distract me from the main issue, which is that you are a wizard and I am... me." She crossed her arms and thrust her chin forward aggressively. Her eyes, though, were worried and vulnerable-looking.

"Yes, you are you," Grimr said. Taking a chance, he stroked a hand along the tight weave of one of her intricate braids, finishing with the tips of his fingers tucked just under the edge of her jaw. "And I am, to put it quite simply, smitten with you, Mistress Dori."

"A frumpy, fussy spinster who's forgotten how to be anything but Ori's substitute mother?" she asked, uncrossing her arms and twisting her fingers together anxiously.

"A lovely woman with very discerning tastes who is also a wonderful mother and sister," he said. Urging her forward with the lightest press of his fingers under her jaw, he leaned towards her until his mouth was only an inch from hers and said, "And that is why I would like to ask your permission to court you properly."

She leaned in the final inch and kissed him. Her lips were soft and warm, and she closed her eyes as she kissed. He closed his eyes and kissed her back, their lips meeting and parting in the sweetest of caresses.

Their lips parted at last. Her eyes crinkled in a smile as she said, "Yes."

"Yes?" he asked, gathering his hands in his and kissing her lightly on her knuckles.

She rolled her eyes. "I still think you're totally mental, but yes."

With their hands clasped together, they quite lost track of time as they kissed under the trees.

They stopped only when they were interrupted by Ori and Bell, who had come to ask if Bell could travel with them. Even as Dori questioned Bell about her family, her eyes met Grimr's from time to time and they shared sweet, secret smiles.

***

"Mistress Nori!" a voice called from behind her. Nori turned to see Kili waving at her excitedly. She smiled and waited for him to hurry over to her.

"Master Kili," she greeted him. "How are you on this fine morning? Fully recovered from the ale?"

He laughed. "It'd take more drink than that to keep me down. Have you eaten?"

"No, I was just thinking about hunting down some food."

"Well, I've found the best meat pasties in the whole market. Follow me, I'll show you where they are," he said, grinning at her.

Shrugging, Nori followed him. "Where's your other half? I usually don't see you two apart unless you have a bow in hand."

Kili winced. "We had a... disagreement."

"I know how that goes. Older siblings always think they know best."

"Precisely!" Kili said. "He thinks that because he's five years older, he knows so much better than I."

"Take it from me, they never get over that," Nori said. "Dori still tries to tell me what to do as if I'm Ori's age."

"Ah," Kili said. "So... how old are you exactly? Just as a matter of curiosity."

Nori squinted at him dubiously. "One hundred and four. Why?"

"No reason," Kili said. "Oh, look, there's the place with the pasties."

The meat pasties smelled as delicious as Kili had promised. Cradling the hot pasties in their hands, they ate as they walked aimlessly through the market.

"And then the guardsman asks me why there is a naked Dwarf in the back of the wagon singing the Saga of Durin the Wanderer at the top of his lungs."

"No," Kili said, his eyes widening. "What did you tell him?"

"I said I'm sorry, officer, but he claims the saga sounds better when performed naked." She paused before adding, "The guardsman said "Then I'd hate to hear what it sounds like when he's fully dressed," and sent us on our way."

Kili leaned his forehead on her shoulder while giggling helplessly. Nori grinned and ate the last few bites of her pasty as she waited for him to recover.

Dwalin turned the corner and saw them, his face going from neutral to thundercloud in the span of half a second. His fists clenched as he stormed toward them.

Kili must have felt the sudden tension in her body, because his laughter cut off abruptly as he looked up and saw Dwalin. Nori tried to subtly move so that Kili was sheltered behind her and was stymied by him trying to move in front of her.

"Nori," Dwalin said, crossing his arms over his chest. "We need to talk. In private," he added, scowling at Kili. 

"Kili, could you give us a moment?" Nori asked.

Kili glared at Dwalin, then looked at her and asked quietly, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she said firmly. Looking reluctant, he walked away slowly, shooting glances over his shoulder. Nori was fairly sure that he stopped as soon as he went around a corner and was out of sight, but she had other things to worry about at the moment.

Deliberately keeping her arms relaxed at her side, she asked Dwalin, "What was it that you wanted to say?"

"Ah, so you can talk to me now that your new toy is gone?" he sneered.

" _What_?" Nori asked, almost more surprised than angry. Almost.

"Well, we are toys to you, right? That you play with and then abandon when you get bored?"

That stung. "I did not get bored with you. I told you, there were reasons--"

"Aye, reasons when it suits you," he growled.

"Reasons that matter!" Nori shouted. "You seem to think that if you set your chisel and hope, the stone will bend to your will. But you can't just ignore the issues and hope they'll go away."

"You say hope like it's something foul." Dwalin shook his head. "I shouldn't be surprised."

"What do you mean?" She glared at a female Hobbit who was obviously eavesdropping. The Hobbit squeaked with terror and fled.

"You're too afraid of love to feel anything," Dwalin said. "Have you ever loved anyone in your entire life?"

The words hit Nori like arrows. Feeling strangely weightless with anger, she whispered, "Yes, I did love someone once. And she bled to death in my arms."

Her voice grew louder as she said, "So go fuck yourself, Dwalin, because I certainly won't be doing it again."

Dwalin seemed frozen in place. Nori stormed past him, walking blindly as tears of anger blurred her vision. She wasn't sure where she was going, just as long as it was away from him.

"Nori!" Kili called, jogging to catch up with her. "Is everything alright?"

Nori blinked the tears out of her eyes and slapped a smile on her face. "Yes, everything's fine. Say, how have your Iglishmiek lessons been going?"

A puzzled line appeared between Kili's eyebrows. "Fine. I've been getting much better at it. Um. Are you--are you _sure_ you're alright?"

"Never better," Nori said, reaching up to sling an arm around Kili's shoulders. "Say, they've got an archery contest set up on the other side of the field. Come with me and I'll show you how to cheat at betting."

"Sure," Kili said, looking a little overwhelmed. 

Nori grinned, teeth bared, and said, "Let's go fleece some Hobbits."

She was fine, dammit, she would be _absolutely fine_.

***

Dwalin unclenched his fists and stared down at his hands, wondering how that had gone so wrong. He hadn't meant to say any of that. Well, no, some of that he had meant to say, but not like that. Not with sharpened words thrown like axes.

He'd just been so frustrated, wondering why Nori was avoiding him, wondering what had gone wrong. Then there had been the dagger dance last night, with Kili and Nori sharing a dance that was traditionally part of courting. Dwalin had gone looking for her this morning, to try to talk to her and figure out why she was avoiding him. To try to work things out.

Then he found Kili cuddling up to her, the two of them laughing over some joke, and he'd lost his temper and yelled exactly the way he hadn't meant to. In just a few short minutes, he'd managed to destroy everything he'd ever wanted.

Dwalin growled, furious and sick at heart, and went to find someone to spar with. Maybe if he worked himself into exhaustion, he could stop feeling this way, even if only for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for an argument between a couple that quickly descends into ad hominem verbal attacks.
> 
> (Sorry!)


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are shenanigans, banter, and Dis being politely terrifying.

"They're kissing!" Ori hissed, ducking behind a market stall.

"Who is?" Bell squeaked in surprise as Ori pulled her behind the stall with her.

"Grimr and Dori!" 

"Are they not supposed to be?"

Ori waved her hands frantically. "It's just that Dori has never kissed anyone before!"

"Really?" Bell sounded doubtful. "Isn't she... old?"

"Well, not that I know of," Ori said. "I can't believe they're kissing!" She peeked around the stall again.

"Is this a good thing?" Bell asked. 

"Yes," Ori said, beaming and bouncing on her toes with excitement. "Grimr is Nori's shield-brother. He's saved her life a thousand times. Plus, he's a wizard! And he seems to really like Dori. We'd better not interrupt them."

They waited, but every time they looked around the edge of the stall, Grimr and Dori were _still_ kissing.

After what felt like at least half an hour, Ori was out of patience. "I am happy for them, but I can't stare at the back of this stall any longer. Come on, Bell."

They walked over to where Dori and Grimr were kissing (still!) and waited politely to be noticed. Ori coughed. Finally she said loudly, "Oh, hello, Dori. Fancy meeting you here."

Dori turned bright pink and jumped away from Grimr. Patting down her hair and clearing her throat, she said, "Ori, you're becoming just as quiet as your older sister. Mind that's all that you pick up from her."

"Yes, Dori," Ori repeated obediently. She snuck a look at Grimr, who looked highly amused. 

"Did you need something?" Dori asked.

Ori took a deep breath. "Can Bell come with us on the journey?"

"Oh, little jewel, no," Dori said, sounding like all of the times when Ori asked to bring home a stray cat. "Bell has a family here."

"She's an orphan and the relatives she lives with don't take good care of her. She should come with us," Ori said firmly.

"This isn't a holiday," Dori said. "It's going to be dangerous. We can't bring along anyone who can't fend for themselves."

"Bell can fend for herself!" Ori protested.

Grimr spoke up. "What skills do you possess, young Hobbit?"

"I can hunt small game with my sling," Bell said. "And I'm good at sneaking into places. I'm much quieter than any Dwarf--no offense, Ori."

"You're not seriously considering this," Dori said to Grimr.

"What would make you consider it?" Ori asked her.

"She would have to get permission from her family," Dori said.

"And if I had permission, then I would be allowed to come along?" Bell asked.

Dori looked a little uneasy, but then firmed her chin. "Yes," she said. Ori was certain she was only saying that because she was sure Bell couldn't possibly get permission from her family.

"I'll be right back," Bell said cheerfully.

The relative she eventually led over to them was an old, wrinkled Hobbit who looked at least three hundred years old. Bell introduced him as, "My uncle, Isengrim Took, next in line as Thain of the Shire."

The conversation that followed involved a lot of talking in loud voices and repeating themselves, since the old Hobbit was going deaf. Once Bell's uncle understood what they were asking, he immediately gave it his blessing, saying cheerfully, "Bellflower Baggins, an adventure will be just the thing for you. Good to see you embracing your Took side, my dear," he said with a wink. "Here, have a bit of money for the road." 

"Thank you, Uncle Isengrim!" Bell said very loudly.

"Be sure to take good care of my niece!" he told the Dwarves. "And you be careful, young Bellflower. The best adventures are always dangerous. What direction are you headed?" 

"Southeast," Grimr said. "We plan to take the Greenway to Dunland."

The old Hobbit made a thoughtful sound. "I've heard rumor that Tharbad flooded badly after the Fell Winter, young man. I wouldn't go that way for love nor money. But I suppose you Dwarves do know your traveling better than Hobbits, wandering around Middle Earth the way you do."

"Thank you," Dori said faintly.

"Safe travels, little Bellflower." Isengrim kissed Bell on the cheek and then hobbled away, saying in a musing voice, "She's the spitting image of her mother, my goodness..."

Dori appeared to be struck speechless by the fact that Bell had actually managed to get her family's permission. 

"Why don't you two run along and make sure Bell has everything she'll need for the journey," Grimr said.

Ori and Bell kept straight faces as they walked away, but as soon as they turned a corner around a market stall they started giggling, leaning against each other. "How did you manage that?" Ori asked.

"Uncle Isengrim has always been a little bit eccentric," Bell said. "I knew he'd think it was a grand idea for me to go on an adventure with a group of Dwarves I'd just met today."

"Oh, Bell," Ori said, linking their hands together, "I'm so happy you're going to come with. We will have so much fun together."

"It'll certainly be an adventure," Bell said, which sent them both giggling again.

***

At midday, the Company started packing up to leave. They had taken the morning to fully provision themselves for the road, but once that was done Lord Thorin was champing at the bit to be off. Bofur and Bombur made their way over to Veirik to say farewell to the smuggler. Depending on how this mad venture went, they might be in contact with Veirik in the future about traveling with his caravan again.

Or they might become filthy rich on dragon poop. Bofur had money riding either way.

"Are you sure I can't entice you into staying?" Veirik asked Bombur. "Your brother wasn't exaggerating about your cooking skills."

Bombur turned pink and mumbled, "Ummm, thank you, but no, I have to... go."

"Are you sure, brother?" Bofur asked. Bombur gave him a look as if to say _what the hell are you doing?_ Bofur just grinned at him innocently.

"I do appreciate a man who knows his way around sausages... and eggs," Veirik winked.

Bombur turned magnificently red, mumbled something incoherently, and fled. 

"Was it something I said?" Veirik asked.

Bofur clapped him on the shoulder. "It's been a pleasure, Master Veirik. And between you and me," he said, leaning closer and lowering his voice, "I think you were making some progress with him." With that, he sauntered off to join Bombur and Bifur, who were packing their gear up by their ponies on the other side of camp.

"Bombur, you heartbreaker," Bofur said.

His brother was still completely red-faced. "Shut up," he muttered, fastening buckles on a saddlebag. "He wasn't serious. People don't flirt with me except when they're joking."

Bofur rolled his eyes. "For what it's worth, Bom, I think he actually was being serious."

Bombur thumped his kettle onto the grass with unnecessary force. "Well, you're wrong, but what does it matter? I'm not like you, with a different Dwarf in every settlement. I want something permanent."

Bifur snapped his fingers to get their attention and gestured, _Stop teasing your brother, Bofur._

"Come on, don't be mad," Bofur said, sidling up to Bombur and nudging him with his shoulder. "I was just teasing you."

"You're a jackass," Bombur muttered, but he seemed mollified.

***

They made good time that day and the next, heading southeasterly from Michel Delving under a brilliant Spring sun. Hobbits stared at them from doorsteps and farm fields as they passed. A few times, Hobbit children chased after the pony caravan, giggling and calling after them excitedly. Towards the end of the second day, the land started to gradually become wilder, Hobbit farms disappearing entirely and only occasional herds of sheep spotting the landscape.

Nori and Dwalin had been mutually avoiding each other since the argument at the market. Kili stuck by Nori's side like a burr much of the time. He seemed immune to her snappish temper, chattering along excitedly even when she barely responded with grunts to his monologue. Eventually his good cheer wore her down to merely being grumpy, rather than viciously angry with the world at large (but mostly with herself and Dwalin.)

They camped the second night on soft grass by the side of a gentle stream. Nori savored the luxury of a soft spot for her bedroll and a cheerful fire, knowing that soon both might be in short supply as they ventured further into the Wild.

Walking back to the campfire from the stream, Nori nearly walked straight into Dis, who smiled at her charmingly and took her elbow in a grip like iron. "Walk with me, Mistress Nori."

"All right," Nori said cautiously. 

They walked along the stream until they reached a pleasant spot with limestone boulders the right size for sitting on. Dis seated herself on one end of an oblong boulder and looked expectantly at Nori until she sat down on the other end. From a satchel, Dis unpacked two tin mugs, a flask that proved to contain tea (still steaming), and a small selection of cheeses and bread. Feeling trapped, Nori accepted a mug of tea and nibbled at a piece of cheese.

Dis took a sip of tea and asked, "What are your intentions towards my son?"

Nori nearly choked. "What?" she asked blankly.

"Your intentions," Dis repeated.

"What? No, I mean--I don't have any intentions!" Nori sputtered.

Dis leveled piercing blue eyes at her in a measuring sort of stare. "I did notice that you began spending time with Kili around the same time that you stopped speaking to Dwalin. You can understand a mother's concern, I'm sure. You are much older and more worldly than my son, and he has developed an affection for you."

"By Mahal's bleeding... eyeballs," Nori corrected herself quickly.

Dis smiled. "I am very old friends with Dwalin. I assure you I have heard much worse language."

"Right." Nori swallowed. The reminder that Dis and Dwalin were old friends was not particularly reassuring.

Nori took a moment to put her thoughts in order, then said, "The reason why I stopped speaking to Dwalin around the same time I started spending time with Kili is that Dwalin and I had a fight about Kili the morning after the dagger dance. Dwalin was jealous of Kili, which is completely ridiculous and unreasonable, and also, just because we were involved doesn't mean Dwalin had the right to tell me who I could or could not spend time with." Whoops, she was getting sidetracked. "But I assure you that I have done nothing untoward with your son."

"And why is that? He is a prince, and I think it is not just a mother's love that calls him handsome." Dis took a sip of tea, watching Nori expectantly.

"Because he's a kid," Nori said bluntly. "He's my little sister's age. I've been having fun teaching him things. It's been kind of like having a little brother." She shrugged uncomfortably. "I mean, I knew that he has a crush--I'm not an idiot--but I figured that it was harmless. Just puppy love."

Dis nodded. "Good. And let it remain so, or else you will find that the line of Durin is not to be trifled with."

"Understood," Nori said. Personally, she thought that between Thorin and his sister, Dis was the much more intimidating Durin sibling.

***

Kili threw himself on the ground next to his brother. "I've decided to forgive you for being an asshole," he said magnanimously. 

Fili looked disbelieving. "You, forgive _me_? Thumb-biter."

"Take that back!" They wrestled for a few minutes. Fili put Kili in an armlock and rubbed his knuckles over his head until Kili yelled, "Ow, ow, ow! I yield!"

Fili released him and they lay on the grass side by side, Kili pouting and rubbing his head while his brother looked smug.

"Jerk," Kili said.

"Knob."

Kili kicked Fili's boot idly. "Say, Bombur is hoarding some tarts from the Hobbit market. Want to see if we can steal a few?"

"You know he'll smack us with that giant ladle if he catches us."

" _If_ he catches us," Kili shrugged.

Fili grinned. "Sure."

***

Nori and Dis sipped tea together for a few minutes in semi-companionable silence before Dis said, "Mistress Nori, it would be impossible for me not to be aware of your profession."

"Yes?" Nori asked, shoulders stiffening.

"You said that you've been enjoying teaching things to Kili. So tell me, what have you been teaching my son?"

Nori whistled silently. Well, at least Dis didn't sound angry. "I showed him how to recognize and avoid a pickpocket," she said cautiously. Dis nodded for her to go on. "I showed him how to cheat at betting and I told him a little bit about how to run a long con."

"Did you show him how to pickpocket someone?" Dis asked. Nori shook her head. "Why not?"

"Because he won't ever need to know how to steal to feed his family," Nori said. "I didn't want him doing it as a dare or just for a thrill."

Dis nodded thoughtfully. "Tell me, Mistress Nori, have you worked as an assassin?"

"What? No," Nori said. "I've known some assassins, but I've never been interested in that kind of work. I prefer scams and cons. They're... fun," she shrugged, aware how that probably sounded to someone law-abiding.

"But you do know enough about it to teach my sons how to recognize and survive an assassination attempt?"

"Yes," Nori said, her attention piqued. "I could certainly teach them what I know about it."

"I would appreciate that," Dis said. "Dwalin and Thorin have taught them the warrior's arts, Balin has attempted to teach them diplomacy and law, but there has been no one to teach them about the less... forthright aspects of ruling."

"All right," Nori said. "I think that can be arranged." She had to smile at the ridiculousness of a street rat teaching anything to the sister-sons of a king.

"Oh, and one more thing," Dis said. "You and Dwalin are both adults and I am not his mother. So I will simply tell you that I am aware of his faults. He is jealous, quick to anger, and stubborn."

Nori snorted. _And how._

"But he is also one of the most honorable, generous, loyal Dwarves I have ever known," Dis said. "I don't claim to know what passed between the two of you. But I do believe that if both of you could move past your anger and stop being idiots, you could make each other very happy. A relationship only thrives if both of the people involved can find somewhere to meet in the middle."

Nori swallowed her reflexive resentment at anyone telling her what to do and made herself think about Dis's advice objectively. Watching Nori, Dis sipped at her tea.

Eventually, Nori asked, "If you don't mind me asking, Lady Dis--and you can tell me to mind my own business if you want--you obviously care about Dwalin a lot. Why did you never..."

"End up with him?" Dis asked. "I loved my husband, Vili, with all my heart. He was a warrior through and through, and he died a warrior. Just as my grandfather and my brother Frerin did. And I have mourned them all.

"Loving a warrior is a difficult fate to bear. Keep that in mind," she said, not unkindly.

Nori smiled ruefully. "Trust me, my lady. I already knew that."

Quietly sitting next to her sisters once they got back to camp, Nori spent the evening thinking and surreptitiously watching Dwalin. The conversation with Dis had given her a couple of things to ponder on that night.

***

"Excuse me."

Isengrim Took turned around to see a Big Person--well, a Dwarf, they were more like Moderately Big People--scowling at him. In his experience, that was an expression that generally indicated that someone had just repeated themselves to him several times at increasing volume.

"Well, bless me! More Dwarves in the Shire!" Isengrim said. 

"More Dwarves? So there are other Dwarves here?" the woman asked, looming over the old Hobbit.

Something about her bearing made Isengrim feel wary. Bellflower's Dwarves had been perfectly pleasant, if heavily armed. This Dwarf was not pleasant at all.

He stalled for time by taking out his pipe and packing it with Longbottom Leaf. The woman scowled impatiently as he lit the pipe and took a few puffs. "There are Dwarves in the Shire from time to time, trading. I did see a few t'other day in the market. Maybe if you describe the Dwarves you're looking for I could tell you if I saw them."

"There would have been an older male Dwarf with grey hair and a younger Dwarf--who might be dressed as male or female--with long red hair, possibly in a strange three-peaked style," the woman said. "Probably traveling with a tall, bald Dwarf with tattoos on his head, an older Dwarf woman with grey hair in elaborate braids, and a young Dwarf girl with red hair."

Goodness, if that didn't sound like the Dwarves Isengrim had sent his little niece Bellflower off on an adventure with! Isengrim made a show of thinking deeply while sucking on his pipe. "Hrrm. They do sound familiar. I do believe those are the Dwarves I gave directions to."

"Do you remember which direction they headed?" the woman asked through gritted teeth.

"East towards Bree," Isengrim lied cheerfully. "I saw them off myself, I did."

"And you're certain they didn't head south on the Greenway?"

"Oh, my goodness no. They asked about the southern route and I told them no one takes that route anymore, not after the floods five years ago. No, I sent them on their way to Bree, and told them to be sure to buy a mug or two at the Prancing Pony. They serve the finest ale you can find outside the Shire and it'll send you heels over teakettle if you're not careful. In pints!" Chuckling, he hooked his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets. "Why, there was the time when my nephew Fortinbras--"

"Thank you. You've been most helpful," she interrupted, politely enough but somehow menacing at the same time.

"My pleasure. Safe travels!" Isengrim smiled benignly until the Dwarf was out of sight, following the Great East Road. 

"Well, my goodness. The Old Took will want to hear about this and no mistake!" he said, mopping the sweat off his forehead. 

Hopefully the mysterious woman would chase the main Dwarf caravan past Bree, far enough that she'd never be able to catch up with his niece and her Dwarves on the Greenway.

Such excitement! Chortling, Isengrim checked the sky and decided that perhaps there was time for a quick stop by the Green Dragon for a wee bit of ale and gossip before heading back to Great Smials to tell the Old Took all about it.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there continues the eternal struggle of Dwarves vs. Nature vs. Orcs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for animal death (non-graphic) and surgical ick (moderately graphic.) I borrowed the idea of Nori training the princes from one of Thorinsmut's stories.

The further southeast of the Shire they traveled, the flatter the land became. The scattered woodlands and rolling hills of the Shire gave way to flat grassy plains that seemed to go on forever. It was impossible to tell from one day to the next how far they had travelled, for it was always the same vista of endless grasslands that faced them each morning.

Nori started sparring with Fili and Kili in the evenings, showing them how to deal with opponents who didn't attack head-on like honorable Dwarven warriors. The Company seemed to find this extremely entertaining and could often be found placing bets on the outcomes of their practice bouts. Kili was agile and had unerring aim and Fili was strong and surprisingly fast, but Nori had the advantage of years of experience against opponents who were genuinely trying to kill her. Even two against one, Fili and Kili rarely got the better of her.

The practice bouts served another purpose. Though Nori continued to spend a great deal of time with Kili, most of it was with his brother as well, under the guise of teaching them, as Lady Dis put it, the less forthright aspects of ruling. What Thorin thought of this, Nori had no idea. His sister must have spoken to him though, for he made no objection to his sister-sons learning such dishonorable things as how to most effectively kill an opponent with a knife to the back.

One evening about a week after leaving the Shire, Grimr and Nori sat on a fallen tree not far from camp, watching over the ponies in the gathering dusk. They could faintly hear the noises of camp behind them--Bombur and Bofur squabbling over whose turn it was to wash the bowls, someone idly playing a tune on a recorder--but they were far enough away that their voices couldn't carry back to camp.

Puffing on his pipe meditatively, Grimr said, "So, there is something I feel that I must ask you, my dear. Are you courting both of the princes now?"

"What? No!" Nori said, making a face at him. "Why would you think that?"

Grimr shrugged. "You have been spending an awful lot of time with both of them recently."

"You have a terrible, suspicious mind," Nori said, rolling her eyes. "No, what happened is that Lady Dis warned me off from Kili and asked me to show the princes how to survive an assassination attempt. I'm killing two birds with one stone."

"You're doing that just because of Lady Dis?" Grimr asked. "Not at all because of a certain fight you may have had with a certain guardsman at the Hobbit market?"

"Lady Dis is bloody terrifying and you know it," Nori said. "Also, Dwalin was being an irrational, jealous idiot."

"Still angry at him?" Grimr asked.

Nori paused and said, "Yes and no." She picked up a small branch and started idly pulling the dried-out bark off, just for something to do with her hands. "I still think he was being unreasonable. But I sort of... miss him."

Grimr gestured with his pipe as he asked, "You have no idea what you're doing with this relationship, do you?"

Nori scowled at the branch in her hands. "I have had a long-term lover before, you know."

"I remember," he said. "I also remember that Sigrun was the one who made you talk when the two of you had disagreements. And that she was the one who made you listen, too. Mahal help us all, now you're in a relationship with someone who is just as bad at honest discussion of emotions as you are."

"Shut it," Nori grumbled. She gave up on the stick and threw it into the forest. "All right, old man, if you're so very wise, then what words of wisdom do you have for me now?"

"Talk to Dwalin," Grimr said. "Actually talk, don't just lose your temper at him and storm off."

"I'm not the only one of us who does that," Nori pointed out. She sighed and leaned against Grimr's side, saying, "I will try, though, I promise. I've been thinking about something Lady Dis said. Something about meeting in the middle being the only way to keep a relationship healthy."

"Lady Dis is wise," Grimr said. "Though I must admit to feeling a bit alarmed that it sounds like "compromise is good" was a new revelation for you."

Nori shrugged. "My ma and my worthless bastard of a father weren't exactly great examples of how to keep a relationship healthy. The opposite, really."

"Ah," Grimr said, smoothing his hand over Nori's hair. "That actually does explain a lot."

Nori's voice was slightly muffled against his shoulder as she said, "Don't start thinking you're my substitute father, because you're not. You're more like a stray tomcat I couldn't get rid of, so I started feeding you scraps every now and again and you just never left."

Grimr snorted with laughter. "I wouldn't dream of it, my jewel." 

Trying to lighten the mood and change the subject, Nori asked, "And what are _your_ intentions towards my sister?"

"My intentions are to make her as happy as I am able to, for as many short years as I may have with her," Grimr said.

The way he phrased it made Nori pause and then ask, "How old are you, anyway?"

"Old," he said, and that one word held the weight of more years than Nori could possibly imagine.

"So you're _actually_ a wizard then? I mean, a real Wizard," Nori asked, pulling away and turning to look at him.

Grimr laughed. "Yes, I am _actually_ a real Wizard."

"Huh," Nori said, cocking her head to the side. "Aren't you supposed to be wise and... I don't know, less interested in getting rich?"

He shrugged. "As I've mentioned before, this job comes with a set of extremely ambitious goals and no bloody funding with which to accomplish them."

"Yes, but you enjoy it," Nori accused. "You get positively gleeful when a job goes well."

"Everybody needs a hobby."

***

The plains shifted to wetlands, which brought with them swarms of mosquitoes. The insects were stymied by the tough skins of the Dwarves but seemed to find the Hobbit delicious. Poor Bell was miserable until they found, quite by accident, that one of the ointments in Dis's medical kit seemed to chase the mosquitoes away. Smeared with the ointment, Bell was much less miserable, if distinctly pungent.

The ruins of Tharbad rose up out of the wetlands, great piles of worked stone mixed with the much more humble remains of buildings that appeared to have been destroyed more recently. Riding quietly along the narrow track between the ruined buildings, Ori wondered aloud how long ago the more recent ruins dated from.

"Five years," Bell said quietly. They still shared a single pony, since the two of them together weighed less than an adult male Dwarf. Ori certainly wasn't complaining about riding with her arms wrapped around Bell's waist day after day. "The great floods came after the snows of the Fell Winter melted."

"I remember the Fell Winter," Ori said. "Well, I remember food being short, I never went outside of course. What was it like? On the surface, I mean."

"Bad," Bell said. "It was... terrible, actually. Snow fell for weeks, blanketing the Shire, and then the Brandywine river froze over and huge white wolves crossed the frozen river. We couldn't venture outside for fear of the wolves, for they were starving and would attack groups of Hobbits in broad daylight. But eventually we had to. We were running out of food and we had no choice but to venture out or starve." Ori felt her shiver.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up something that would upset you," Ori said.

"I don't mind _you_ asking," Bell said. Quietly enough that Ori could barely hear her, she said, "We ran out of food one day and my parents decided that we had to try to make it to Great Smials, to stay with my mother's Took relatives. We picked up a few other families on the way as we headed across country. We were about halfway there when the wolves caught us. We defended ourselves as well we could with slings and walking sticks. We managed to drive off the wolves but my mother--" her voice broke.

Ori held her tightly around the waist, leaning her head against Bell's and murmuring, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Bell took a few deep, shuddering breaths, then wiped her hands over her face and straightened her spine. "She saved my life, my father's life, and the lives of over a dozen Hobbits that day. She died a hero." 

"She sounds like an amazing woman," Ori said.

"She was," Bell said, her voice steady. "All I've ever wanted is to live up to her example."

"I'm sure she'd be so proud of you."

"Thank you," Bell said, squeezing Ori's hands.

Then they came to the foot of the flooded-out causeway and there was no more opportunity for conversation.

***

Crossing the river at Tharbad would have been impossible if the river itself had not been slow and shallow there, flowing through the landscape in meandering channels, though it was so wide that they could barely see the other shore. 

Leading the ponies across a maze of toppled ancient bridge stones, the washed-out remnants of more recent repairs to the causeway, and treacherous, murky water was a slow and dangerous process. They nearly lost Dori's pony to an unexpected drop-off in the middle of what looked like a shallow channel. Later, they did lose a pack pony to a pit of quick mud, the mud swallowing up the frantically struggling pony before they could manage to pull it out. 

After that, the going was even slower, as the Dwarves in the lead used long poles to test every river channel and patch of mud before daring to cross it. 

As if the sheer misery of crossing the flooded-out causeway was not enough, a slow, cold drizzle started when they were only partway across, further obscuring their vision and making footing on the tilted, cracked stones of the ancient bridge even more treacherous. The only good thing about the rain was that it seemed to discourage the mosquitoes.

At last they reached the relatively solid ground of the far shore and followed the gradual slope up from the level of the river. 

Their path led through a narrow passageway between massive hills of piled stone, three times as tall as the ponies, which might once have been part of a defensive dike. Trees sprouted from the stone wherever enough dirt had accumulated to put down roots. The overall effect was that of a narrow ravine, paved with uneven stones and drifts of mud and leaf mould, between two steep, partially wooded slopes. If they had not been so exhausted from the crossing, it probably would have occurred to them that this would be the perfect location for an ambush.

Huddled into their cloaks and inattentive to their surroundings, the first they knew of the orc ambush was the shrill scream of Thorin's pony as it collapsed with an orcish arrow piercing its chest.

The quiet afternoon exploded into a cacophony of alarmed shouts and Dwarvish battle cries.

"Stay back," Nori ordered Ori and Bell. 

Ori nodded, gripping onto the reins with tight fingers. In front of her, Bell was readying her sling.

Nori dismounted quickly and drew her long daggers. Her pony wasn't trained for combat and she would do more good on the ground. The rain-slick carpet of dead leaves and mud was already going to make things difficult enough without adding the need to handle a panicking pony on top of that.

She took a quick look around to catch her bearings. The ambush had been well-planned, for orcs. The orcs had set up archers at the top of the slopes on either side. They needed to take out those archers fast, so that the Dwarven warriors wouldn't be pinned down.

"I'll take this side," Nori shouted to Kili. He nodded, already nocking an arrow and aiming at the orc archers on his side of the ravine.

Climbing up the side of the ravine, slipping on the mud and dead leaves, she made it to the first orc archer without being spotted. She slid past it, slicing it in the lower belly as she went by, then stabbing it in the back as it fell forward. She lunged past the toppling body and stabbed the next archer in the neck before it could shout out a warning.

The third archer saw her coming and swung its bow at her like a club. She ducked to avoid it and hit the archer low, gutting it. It managed to yell a warning in their guttural language before falling to her blades. She'd lost the advantage of surprise.

Two orcs wielding primitive swords blocked her from the few remaining archers on this side of the ravine. Nori lost precious minutes taking them down. She screamed in anger as one of the remaining archers aimed its barbed arrow at Dwalin's back, unguarded as he engaged a big orc at the bottom of the ravine.

Another orc was climbing up the side of the ravine and would reach her in a moment. Nori noted all of that in an eye's blink, time seeming to slow down as she threw herself onto the archer daggers-first, causing the the arrow aimed at Dwalin's back to imbed itself instead in the ravine floor.

She had only a moment to feel relief before the orc climbing up the side of the ravine stabbed her.

Clutching her side and feeling her life's blood flowing over her hand, Nori retained consciousness just long enough to throw a dagger into the orc's neck and watch it fall.

Her vision went fuzzy and dark, and then the sky spun around her and she knew no more.

***

Dwalin blocked a blow from the big orc, the impact shuddering through his tired arms. As the orc drew back for another blow, Dwalin stepped inside its guard and gutted it with Keeper in his off hand. The orc collapsed as its guts spilled across the muddy ground.

A scream of rage drew Dwalin's attention up to the top of the ravine. Unable to get there in time, he saw Nori throw herself on an orc archer while another orc swung its filthy blade and stabbed her in the side before it collapsed, clutching its throat. Nori did not move again.

Shouting a denial, Dwalin laid around him with Grasper and Keeper as he fought his way up the side of the ravine. Orcs fell to his blades unremarked by him, for all that mattered was getting to Nori before she bled out in the mud.

Another orc leaned over where Nori had fallen and Dwalin knew that he couldn't get to her in time. He threw himself forward regardless, landing in the mud just short of the orc and watching in stunned relief as it sprouted an arrow bearing Kili's fletching from its throat and fell backwards.

Dwalin struggled the last few feet to Nori's side on hands and knees, the slick mud and leaf mould threatening to send him sliding back down the slope. 

Nori lay still and pale on the ground, the mud around her body stained ominously rusty. Dwalin laid a trembling hand on her throat, barely daring to breathe until he felt the pulse of blood through her veins. She was still alive.

"Dis!" he shouted, frantically ripping fabric off of the bottom of his cloak and pressing it to the terrifying wound in Nori's side. "Dis! I need a physicker!"

It seemed hours but could not have been more than a few minutes before Dis scrambled up the slope to kneel next to him. "Show me the wound," she ordered. Distantly, Dwalin was aware that the shouts and screams of battle had died away.

Dwalin peeled the blood-soaked cloth away from Nori's side. Dis sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Gut wound," she said, meeting Dwalin's eyes with compassion in her gaze. "I won't lie to you, her chances are poor. But I will do everything I can to save her. Do you have any spirits on you?"

Dwalin wordlessly held out the metal flask of grain spirits tucked inside his tunic. "Good," she said, taking a knife to the leather ties that fastened the side of Nori's jerkin and folding the leather away from the wound. "Your cloak," she said, holding out her hand. Dwalin gave her his cloak and watched her lay it out on the ground next to Nori, pushing the fabric under her side. The fabric immediately darkened with blood. 

Dwalin knelt next to Dis, his eyes straying to the terrifying paleness of Nori's skin.

"Flask," Dis said. Dwalin handed the flask to her and watched her pour some of the alcohol over Nori's side, mingled alcohol and blood running down from her wound. 

"What does that do?" he asked hoarsely.

"Orc blades are filthy. Even if her guts haven't been nicked, the wound fever from the blade might still kill her," Dis said as she pulled what looked like a sewing kit out of her satchel and laid it on a relatively clean patch of cloak, then threaded a sharp needle with thick thread. "Alcohol purifies the wound."

She handed the flask back to Dwalin and said, "Pour this over my hands." As he did so, she said, "Oin and I have had the worst arguments about this. He believes that a physicker's hands and tools don't need to be purified as well. Superstitious old fool," she muttered as she started to sew Nori's side together like a torn piece of fabric.

As worrying as it was that Nori hadn't yet regained consciousness, a small part of Dwalin was selfishly relieved that he didn't have to hold her down, screaming, for that part. Bad enough to have to do that to a shieldbrother; the thought of doing that to Nori was horrifying.

He heard someone come scrambling up the slope. "Oh, by Durin's beard," Dori gasped, holding her hands to her mouth. She fell to her knees next to Dwalin. 

"Someone get the wizard," Dis ordered, not looking up from her task.

"I'll go," Dwalin said. He half-ran, half-slid down the slope. Finding the wizard where he was helping to collect their scattered ponies, Dwalin gasped out, "It's Nori, she's badly wounded, you have to come."

"Show me," Grimr ordered.

Dis had finished sewing up Nori's side by the time they scrambled back up the slope. Closing his eyes, Grimr held his hands over Nori's wound. The wrinkles across his forehead seemed to become deeper in the few minutes that he concentrated, though there was no outward effect on Nori that Dwalin could see.

"She will live," Grimr said after a few minutes, sounding exhausted. "But we need to find shelter and rest or else this will all be for naught."

"I fear we will not find any shelter this far into the wild, Master Grimr," Thorin said. Dwalin looked up, surprised, and found that what looked like half the Company was crowded around them. "There is nothing but swamps and empty plains between here and the Misty Mountains."

"Swamps," Grimr repeated slowly, as if to himself. "The Swanfleet, of course." He nodded decisively and said, "I know someone who lives near here who may be willing to give us shelter. It will take a bit of fast talking on my part, since she does not care for guests. And yet I think that she is our only hope for finding shelter long enough for Nori to recover from her wounds."

"Who is this person you say you know, who lives alone so far out into the wild?" Thorin asked suspiciously, but Grimr would say no more.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Company takes refuge with a strange host.

They had lost only a few ponies to the orc ambush, luckily enough, so they were able to travel to the house of Grimr's acquaintance at a reasonable speed. Nori still had not regained her senses by the time that they remounted the ponies. It was agreed that Dori, as the strongest Dwarf of the Company, should carry Nori before her on her pony.

Dwalin deliberately placed his pony ahead of Dori's so that he would not be distracted by constantly watching Nori where she sat limply in front of her sister, head lolling against Dori's shoulder. Acting foolishly out of his fear for her would not help Nori, and that was all that mattered now.

They traveled north for about an hour along shifting channels of water that made it difficult to judge where the land ended and the river began. The land that Grimr referred to as the "Swanfleet" was a vast swampy wetland where the river split itself and wandered over the surface of the plain like a drunk heading home after last call. Dwalin hoped that the wizard knew where he was going, because the rest of them were thoroughly lost.

A mound of earth rose from the riverbank ahead of them. As they grew closer, Dwalin saw that it was not a natural formation at all. At some point in the distant past, a lost civilization had raised a watchtower on a mound above the banks of the river. The stones of the wall around the top of the mound were crumbling, cracked and green with moss, but the tower still stood tall. 

Grimr called them to a halt before they started up the ramp that led up to an opening in the stone wall. "There is one rule which you must remember when we enter this house: do not mention harm to cats in any way. If there is anything you have with you which was made with the fur or other body parts of a cat, hide it at the very bottom of your luggage. Actually, no, forget that I said that. Just dump it in the river."

They glanced at each other uncertainly. Finally Kili asked, "Why cats?"

"The lady of this house is a skinchanger."

"A what?" Fili and Kili asked simultaneously.

Grimr sighed wearily, explaining, "A skinchanger is someone who changes their skin from that of a man or woman to that of a beast; in this case, a cat. If you encounter a cat within this house, remember that there is a decent chance that it is actually a skinchanger and do not offer it any insult. Understood?" He barely paused for a reply, continuing, "Now, we should go up in a smaller group at first so as not to alarm the lady. Nori obviously, Dori to carry her, and Bell should accompany us, since her presence will make the lady much more agreeable."

"And me," Dwalin said.

Grimr shook his head. "I don't think we should bring anyone who is too obviously a warrior up. Maybe one of the princes, they're young enough not to be intimidating."

Dwalin crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm going."

Grimr frowned, but said, "Very well."

Dori carried Nori as they walked up the ramp, at the top of which they found a round courtyard, enclosed by the crumbling wall. The wall varied greatly in height, from three times the height of a Dwarf to barely taller than head-height. The round tower in the center of the courtyard appeared to be in better repair. A short flight of steps led from the gravel-paved courtyard up to the door of the tower.

There at the door to the tower stood a Hobbit woman, stocky and brown-skinned, with dark brown curly hair, dressed in a simple bodice and gown. She was unarmed, as far as Dwalin could see, but did not appear to be alarmed by their arrival at her door.

"Grimr," she said neutrally in an accent that Dwalin couldn't place.

"My lady," Grimr said, bowing. "May I introduce Dori daughter of Kori and her sister Nori, whom she is carrying because Nori is badly wounded. Also, Dwalin son of Fundin, and Bellflower daughter of Belladonna Took and Bungo Baggins, of the Shire."

Bell said in tones of great astonishment, "You're a Hobbit! I didn't know any Hobbits lived outside of the Shire or Bree. Oh, um, excuse me. Very pleased to meet you." She curtsied.

Smiling, the woman said, "Not every Hobbit settled in the Shire after the Wandering Days, young one. Particularly not my people. I am Eurwen, of the Stoor Hobbits." She walked down a few steps to the courtyard. "You said you had wounded with you?"

"My sister," Dori said, turning slightly so that the Hobbit woman could see Nori more clearly. "We were ambushed by orcs in the ruins of Tharbad."

"The orcs grow ever more daring," the Hobbit woman said. "Well, come along then. Bring her into the tower. I have a soft pallet where you may lay her down."

"I thank you for your hospitality, Mistress Eurwen," Grimr said, bowing again. "But there are a few more members of our party waiting below. I thought it best to bring up only a few for the initial introduction."

"A few," Eurwen repeated. "How many more is a few?"

"Nine," Grimr said. "All Dwarves."

"A few indeed!" she said, shaking her head. "Do you vouch for them, Grimr? Have you told them the rules of my house?"

"I have indeed, Mistress Eurwen. I swear that they will abide by them."

The Hobbit woman looked reluctant, but she sighed and said, "Very well, call the rest of your group up, though I am not sure how we are going to find room for fourteen more to sleep in the tower. You can stable your mounts in the courtyard. Mistress Dwarf, bring your sister inside," she said, leading the way into the tower.

Dwalin didn't even consider not following them in. The inside of the tower was dark but cosy, with woven tapestries covering the walls and a few low tables with large cushions for seating instead of chairs. The space inside the tower was all one room, with stairs leading up and down along the walls. Eurwen led them up the stairs to the upper floor, which was partitioned off into four rooms. She ushered them into a room which held only a pallet and a scattering of the large cushions. 

Dwalin thought at first that she would bar him from the bedroom, for the Hobbit woman looked displeased when she noticed him following them into the room. She took a deep breath with her mouth open as if she tasted the air. Then suddenly, for no reason that he could tell, she relaxed and smiled at him. "Welcome, cousin," she said.

"What?" Dwalin asked, but she was already bustling over to Dori and helping her to settle Nori onto the pallet. What did she mean, cousin? There weren't any Hobbits in the line of Durin.

Not that he knew of, anyway. Scowling at that disquieting thought, Dwalin stationed himself in the corner of the room where he could watch what they were doing without getting in the way. 

At least, that was the plan, until Eurwen handed him a clay pitcher and said, "There's a cistern in the courtyard. Fill this up, would you please?" 

So that was how Dwalin found himself fetching and carrying for the Hobbit woman, and Dis, too, once she stationed herself in the room that had been claimed as Nori's sickroom. But he couldn't find it within himself to complain. Not when it meant that he had something useful to do to distract himself from how pale and small Nori looked, lying limply on the bed with none of the fire and bravado that usually made her look larger than life.

***

"Bell, I think that cat is staring at us," Ori whispered. 

Bell looked up from unbuckling her saddlebag and jumped, yelping, "Goodness!" There was a cat perched on the courtyard wall just a couple of feet from them, crouched and staring at them with giant amber eyes. 

Which would normally be a little surprising, yes, but not _alarming_ , except that this cat was easily twice the size of the barn cats Bell was familiar with from the Shire. It had a broad head, small ears, and a wide nose, and was much more spotted than striped. It looked distinctly undomesticated.

"Grimr warned us to be careful of cats when we're here," Ori said, edging closer to Bell. "So maybe that's not a normal cat at all."

Bell cleared her throat. "Ah, good morning, Master or Mistress Cat. I am Bellflower Baggins, of the Shire." She paused and then lightly elbowed Ori in the side.

"Oh! And I am Ori daughter of Kori, at your service," Ori said with a curtsey.

The cat flicked its ears, yawned, and leaped from the wall to the gravel of the courtyard, padding off with its short, thick tail trailing behind it. 

"I hope we didn't offend her. Or him," Bell said. "Do you think that was a skinchanger?"

Ori shrugged. "I don't know." She bit her lip, glancing up at the tower before returning to the task of unloading the ponies. Bell could guess at her thoughts.

"I'm sure your sister will be alright," Bell said. "She has Lady Dis and Master Grimr looking after her."

"I hope so," Ori said. Bell hugged her, one-armed, and Ori leaned her head on top of Bell's for a moment, sighing, then went back to unloading.

"We'll finish up here, and then we'll go check on Nori," Bell said, determinedly cheerful. "I'm sure Mistress Eurwen won't mind."

"Is she really a Hobbit?" Ori asked. "I thought Hobbits only lived in the Shire."

"So did I, and yet apparently not," Bell said. "I also didn't think Hobbits were at all magical, but Master Grimr says she's a skinchanger. The world is stranger than I ever thought."

And just to think, if she hadn't decided to go wandering past Michel Delving that day, she might have missed meeting the Dwarves completely. She might have missed meeting Ori, which she couldn't even imagine. That one decision, which had seemed commonplace at the time, had altered the entire course of her life. 

Bell couldn't regret any of it, from exaggerating to Ori how much she was neglected by her Took relatives, to deliberately choosing her eccentric Uncle Isengrim to give her family's blessing on this mad venture. Ori called Bell a "grifter" as if that was something to be proud of. Part of Bell couldn't help but think that anything Ori was so delighted by had to be a good thing, even if it wasn't entirely honest.

Since she had met Ori, Bell found herself wondering if two men or two women together was something Dwarves even did. Oh, no one in the Shire talked about it, but Bell remembered Uncle Isengrim's "roommate" Wilf Underhill, who had passed away some ten years ago. And as for the ladies Emerald Hornblower and Mara Lightfoot, well, they were positively inseparable and no one said a word against it. But she knew so little about Dwarves.

Bell was terrified that she'd say something to Ori and Ori would be confused, or worse, horrified. Bell couldn't bear to think of losing Ori's friendship. Better to love her and have her as a friend than to lose her entirely. So she resolved to say nothing at all.

Maybe, if she was very lucky, Ori would say something first. Until then, Bell would treasure every innocent hug and moment of hand-holding.

They finished helping to unload the ponies and stack the gear in the room on the ground floor of the tower. Ori dithered for a moment, wringing her hands in her skirts. "Perhaps we shouldn't go up. I'm sure they'll tell us if there's any change."

"Come on," Bell said, holding her hand out. "They won't mind if we just stop in for a moment."

Ori nodded, taking a deep breath, and then clasped Bell's hand in her larger, rougher hand and followed her up the stairs.

When they entered the room and saw how still and pale her sister Nori looked, Ori sobbed, covering her face with her hands. Dori gathered Ori up in her arms, murmuring under her breath in the strange-sounding language the Dwarves sometimes forgot not to use around Bell. Bell looked around, finding a quiet corner to stand in and observe everyone around her.

On the other side of the room, Lady Dis and Mistress Eurwen talked quietly. Bell caught words like "tinctures" and "poultices." Perhaps Mistress Eurwen was an herbwife, along with being a shapeshifter. Herbwives were common in the Shire, but Bell was reserving judgement on whether the Hobbit woman really was a shapeshifter until she saw it for herself.

The big, scarred Dwarf with all the tattoos was sitting on the other side of the pallet, his head bowed as he watched Nori. Dwalin still intimidated Bell a little. Maybe more than a little, to be honest. But watching him sitting hunched over by Nori's side, concentrating on every breath she took, he didn't seem quite so frightening.

"It will be alright, mizimith," Dori said, swaying comfortingly as she hugged Ori. "Master Grimr says they got to her in time to save her. She just needs time to rest and heal."

Grimr nodded, putting his hand on Ori's shoulder. "Your sister is tough, nithith. She's a fighter. She was injured worse in the Grey Mountains and she pulled through."

Dwalin looked up. "What happened to Nori in the Grey Mountains?"

"Warg attack," Grimr said briefly. "The rest is for Nori to explain if she chooses to, when she wakes up."

Dwalin nodded, resting his chin on his folded hands and returning to his vigil.

***

"Kili, I think that cat is staring at us."

"Mahal's hammer!" Kili swore, jumping as he noticed that a spotted cat was perched on a ledge just above their heads. "Are you sure that's a cat? It might be a skinchanger."

"Wasn't there only one, though? The Hobbit woman? And she's upstairs with Nori." Finished bringing their packs and gear into the tower, Fili lounged with his back propped up on their packs.

"Yeah," Kili said, suddenly losing any urge to smile. He looked up the stairs, wishing that he could go up there and see Nori for himself. 

"I'm sure she's fine," Fili said. "After all, she's got Grimr and Mam looking after her."

"I hope so." Kili sat cross-legged on the floor next to Fili, leaning his back against the wall. 

"What's wrong, Kee?" The childish nickname meant that it was time for a serious brotherly discussion. Kili looked around, noticing that they were relatively isolated on their side of the room. Most of the group was either outside still dealing with the ponies or talking on the other side of the room. Or upstairs with Nori.

Kili tightened his hands into fists, resting them on his knees. "If I'd been faster, I could have saved her."

"You said you didn't even see the orc that hit her," Fili said reasonably.

"Doesn't matter. If I'd finished with my side just a few seconds earlier, I would have been able to back her up."

"You can't blame yourself for that. You took care of your side as quickly as you could. Like Uncle Thorin says, a battlefield is the last place you want to second-guess yourself. If you second-guess, you hesitate, and if you hesitate--"

"--you die," they said simultaneously. Kili smiled a little, but the expression quickly faded.

Staring at his hands, Kili said quietly, "The worst part--and yes, I realize how horrible and selfish this is--the worst part is that I know that she almost got killed saving Dwalin's life, and I am so very jealous of that." He snorted. "That's awful, yeah?"

Fili winced. "Kili, you know that she's--"

"In love with Dwalin?" Kili rubbed his hands over his face, saying, "Yes, I know. And I also know that I'm just a dumb kid with a crush."

"Did Nori say something to you?" Fili asked in a tone of voice that was familiar from years of his older brother dealing with bullies on Kili's behalf.

"No! Nothing like that. But I suspect that Mam or Uncle Thorin may have said something to her. Did you notice how after a few days on the road, suddenly we were both getting trained by Nori in the evenings and she never spent any time alone with me?"

Fili shrugged. "I don't think that was necessarily their doing." At Kili's unimpressed look, he said, "Yes, alright, I admit it sounds like something they would do."

"So either Mam or Uncle warned Nori off and she didn't fight them on it. Which means she thinks I'm a kid," Kili said, bowing his head. "And if she's truly in love with Dwalin, then it would be dishonorable of me to pursue her anyway."

"Oh, Kee," Fili said, knocking their foreheads gently together. "Can I say that you're right, but I'm sorry that you're right?"

"I guess," Kili said, smiling a little.

The cat, who Kili had forgotten was even there, chose that moment to land heavily in Kili's lap. "Augh!" Kili yelped. The cat looked at him with big yellow eyes and then turned in a circle, making itself at home in the hollow created by Kili's crossed legs. 

"Do you think it's a skinchanger?" Fili asked.

"Mahal, I hope not," Kili said. "I generally like to know someone a little bit better before they sit in my lap."

The cat blinked up at him and started making a rumbling noise in its chest that Kili eventually identified as a purr (though a terrifying one.) "Nice cat," he said, carefully petting its head. It didn't rip his hand off, so he guessed his petting was acceptable to it.

"Fili, Kili, could one of you give me a hand with the ponies?" Bofur called from the doorway to the tower.

"I'll go," Fili said, squeezing Kili's shoulder as he left.

Kili continued petting the cat, finding its purring soothing. He tipped his head down and told the cat very seriously, "Love is horrible. I'd advise against it."

The cat just meowed at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the neo-Khuzdul dictionary online, mizimith = young jewel; nithith = young girl (which I'm using as the equivalent of "little one," since there doesn't seem to be a direct equivalent.) The cats are Fishing Cats, a type of semi-aquatic wildcat found in India and Southeast Asia. I have no idea if they actually purr.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nori and Dwalin finally have an honest discussion about their relationship and certain revelations are made.

The first Dwalin knew of Nori's return to consciousness was her elbow hitting him in the head.

Not intentionally, of course. Dwalin had fallen asleep sitting next to her on her uninjured side with his head resting on the edge of the pallet. In her weak attempt to get the cup of water sitting on a small table by the pallet she had accidentally smacked his head.

"Bloody what?" Dwalin said grumpily as he woke up. 

Really, it just figured that the reality would be so different from the daydreams he'd had of having the perfect thing to say when Nori woke up.

"Water," she said in a rusty voice. Dwalin knocked the cup over in his flailing attempt to grab it for her and had to refill it from the pitcher. He held the glass of water to her lips and she sipped at it a little before her head flopped back down on the pillow. She looked exhausted from just that effort.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like I cheated death again," she said. "Where are we?"

"The house of a Hobbit woman who lives in the swamp. A friend of Grimr," Dwalin said, not wanting to get into the skinchanger explanation just yet. Then something Nori had said grabbed his attention. "What do you mean, _again_?"

"Long story. Tell you later." Her eyes slid closed and she drifted off again. Dwalin was content to sit by her side and watch her breathe easily, without any sign of the wound fever that had threatened the night before.

She drifted in and out of consciousness for most of the morning, occasionally waking up enough to drink a little water or one of the foul-smelling teas concocted by Dis and the Hobbit woman, Eurwen. Towards the afternoon, her periods of wakefulness became longer. Dwalin finally believed that she was recovering when she compared the taste of the tea to hay steeped in a thin broth of cow manure.

"And you've drunk that when?" Dwalin asked, laughing at her.

"Don't need to have drunk it to guess what it would taste like. The smell is bad enough." Her eyes slid closed briefly and Dwalin thought she was going to fall asleep again, but then her eyes flickered open again and she asked, "Was anyone else injured?"

This wasn't the first time she'd asked that, but she appeared to have forgotten all of the previous times. Dwalin thought she might actually remember this time.

"No, you were the only one." 

"Good," she said. "That's good." She seemed to drift off for a second and then said, "Where are my knives?"

Dwalin laughed. It figured that would be one of her first questions. "We had to strip you because your clothing was all over blood and mud. Well, Eurwen and Dis stripped you, they made me leave the room."

"Nothing you hadn't seen before," she said with a small smirk. 

Dwalin coughed. "I cleaned and sharpened your knives and oiled the leather. They're all in the chest at the foot of the pallet." He couldn't resist adding, "Dis said she'd never seen so many knives hidden on one person. Every time she thought they'd come to the end of them, there was another."

The smirk wasn't small anymore. "I'm sure they missed a few. The ones built into my boots are hard to spot."

"Mistress Knives, indeed," he said. She chuckled quietly, wincing as the movement jarred her wound.

Dwalin paused, wondering if this was a good time to bring it up, but she seemed lucid enough that he didn't feel bad for questioning her. "Nori, I have to ask you something. Dis said she saw you throw yourself on the orc archer. She thought that you saw the other orc coming up on your flank. But you threw yourself on the archer anyway, to spoil its aim. Dis thought the archer was aiming for me." 

Dwalin swallowed. "Is that true?"

"You know it was chaos up there, with orcs all over the place and all the rain and mud," Nori said, but Dwalin noticed that she hadn't actually answered the question.

"Is it true?" Dwalin pleaded.

"It was so--you know how--" she stopped, making a frustrated noise, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Meeting his eyes, she simply said, "Yes."

"I owe you my life," Dwalin said, his voice sounding raw even to his own ears. "But it would have been bought far too dearly. Nori, please," he said. "Please don't make me live on knowing that you gave your life for mine."

She closed her eyes and winced. "Somewhere in the Halls of Waiting, Sigrun is laughing at me." Before he could ask who Sigrun was, she opened her eyes and demanded, "Well what was I supposed to do, then? How could I live with myself knowing that I'd let you die in order to preserve my own life?"

Dwalin looked at her with something close to wonder. "Lass. You actually do care about me."

"Of course I do," she said, angrily wiping tears away from the corners of her eyes. "Mahal damn it." She thumped her fist on the pallet and then made a pained noise as the motion jostled her injury. 

"I'm sorry," Dwalin said. "I'm an idiot, getting you upset when you're still healing. I'll get Dis."

"Wait," she said. "Wait. So, this--this is me, meeting you in the middle." She paused, seeming to search for the words, then said, "I do care about you. I'm not--I'm not any good at this, but I care about you. A lot."

Nori looked down at her hands where they were bunching up the blankets with a white-knuckled grip. "It would have killed me to let you die to save myself."

"I love you, Nori," Dwalin said.

She flinched at his words. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable-looking as she met his gaze. Then she looked away and said in an unsteady voice, "I don't know how you can say that so easily."

"Because I do. I think I have since the first time I met you, when you lied to me about your name and then forced me to get engaged to you," Dwalin said, trying to get her to smile. 

She laughed silently, just a puff of air. "That wasn't the most promising of beginnings. And actually, that was the second time I met you. The first time, I was stealing silk from the market." She looked worried but stubborn as she met his eyes.

Dwalin had had a lot of time to think about this as he'd waited by her side to see if Nori would ever wake up. Time to think about whether he could live with what she was. And the answer always came down to, he couldn't live without her. "I know you're a thief, lass. I can't say that I'll always approve of you stealing, but I'm not going to try to tell you what to do or change who you are."

"You mean that," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"Yes." He watched as emotions flickered across her face.

"You really are astonishing, Dwalin son of Fundin." Nori paused and then said, "I won't stop being a thief, but... I will try to only steal from rich people who deserve it. Which admittedly is a little self-serving, since the rich have the best things to steal. Oh, but the dead are still completely fair game. Sorry."

He laughed. "I think I can live with that. Just--bring me along when you're stealing from the dead, yeah? I'd hate to lose you to a barrow wight." He sobered then. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed her palm and said, "I'd hate to lose you."

She curled her hand around his cheek. "I'd hate to lose you, too."

Dwalin closed his eyes and held her hand to his cheek. "You almost died. I thought that the last things we would have said to each other would have been that damned stupid argument at the Hobbit market. And I'm so sorry for that. I overreacted. I know I can be a jealous idiot, and I swear I will try to do better in the future."

"Apology accepted."

"For one thing, I should have known you'd never trifle with young Kili."

"Ah. Here's the thing," she said, pulling her hand away from his and bunching the blanket in her hands again.

Dwalin swallowed hard, thinking, _Don't overreact, even if she fucked him, remain calm and **do not** overreact._ He tried to keep his voice neutral as he asked, "Yes?" 

"No, I didn't fuck Kili," she said, looking annoyed. "But here's the thing. I've never tried being faithful to anyone. Sigrun never asked it of me. Whatever we did when we were apart was our own business. So I don't know if I can be faithful. But I will try."

"Who was Sigrun?" Dwalin asked. It was easier than trying to figure out how he felt about Nori promising to try out monogamy in a way that implied that it was on a trial basis.

"Sigrun was my lover. She died twenty-five years ago, saving my life. It took me a long time to forgive her for that." Nori paused and then continued, "Actually, I finally forgave her completely just a few minutes ago. So I'm fairly sure that somewhere in the Halls of Waiting, she is laughing _so_ hard at me right now."

"She?"

Nori shrugged then made a soft sound of pain. "Ow. Ugh. Have to remember that I've got stitches before I try anything like that."

"Do you need something for the pain? I can get you some willow bark tea." Dwalin stood and was halfway turned to go when Nori smacked his leg with the back of her hand. 

"Sit down. I'm good for a few more minutes." Dwalin sat down reluctantly and Nori continued, "Yes, Sigrun was a woman. I like both men and women. Always have."

"How long were you together?"

"A little under ten years." Anticipating his next question, she said, "Sigrun died saving me from a Warg in the Grey Mountains. I almost died, but Grimr was able to save me. He said... he said that she was too badly wounded for him to heal her."

"I'm sorry," he said, resting her hand on top of hers. 

"Thank you," she said, turning her hand over and lacing their fingers together.

"What were you and Grimr doing in the Grey Mountains?" Dwalin asked. "They're crawling with Orcs. No one goes there if they can help it."

"Grimr's idea. We were there to steal some ancient Dwarven artifact back from the Orcs. He got the artifact. I got six months of Dori mother-henning me in Ered Luin. And, much more importantly, I... lost the only lover I'd ever cared about." Her eyes flickered away and then met his again. "Until you."

"Oh, lass," he said, leaning over and kissing her gently on the lips, then closing his eyes and resting his forehead lightly on hers. "I love you too."

She lifted her hand to cup his cheek and then made a pained noise, dropping her hand to the pallet.

Dwalin kissed her forehead and said, "And now I'm going to get Dis and her willow bark tea, no arguing."

"That sounds like a good idea," she said, her voice tight with pain.

Dis brought willow bark tea and checked Nori's wound, sounding approving as she said, "No more signs of wound fever, but you're going to need to stay off your feet for a few more days."

Nori frowned. "Is our host alright with that?" 

"We've come to an arrangement with Mistress Eurwen," Dis said. "Bofur figured out that there are sublevels to the tower and those of us with stone-sense are helping to make sure the foundations are solid and repairing the walls. Hobbits aren't much for stonework, even skinchanger Hobbits."

"Skinchanger?" Nori asked.

"Aye, she changes her shape into that of a cat, according to Grimr," Dwalin said. "I haven't seen any proof of it yet."

"If that's what Grimr says, then I'd tend to believe it," Nori said. "No matter how strange it is."

"Don't worry yourself about anything," Dis said. "Just get some rest."

Dis patted Nori's hand and smiled at Dwalin before leaving the room. He hesitated, unsure if he should follow her out and leave Nori to sleep.

"Stop dithering," Nori said. "Come here and sleep with me."

"Are you sure?" Dwalin asked. "That's not a very wide pallet."

"Help me shift over a bit and sleep on my good side. It'll work." When he continued to hesitate, worried about injuring Nori, she said, "Please?"

"Dammit," he grumbled, then helped shift her over on the pallet and carefully positioned himself on his side next to her.

She grinned. "Knew that'd work."

"You're a dangerous woman, Nori daughter of Kori." 

Her eyes were starting to slide closed. "That's why... you like me..."

Dwalin leaned his head against hers. He couldn't resist burying his nose in the soft hair behind her ear and sniffing. Something relaxed in him when he smelled _Nori_ , alive and well and no longer smelling like sickness.

"Again with the sniffing," she said, her tone of voice faintly complaining. 

"You smell like you again," he explained.

She opened her eyes long enough to give him a dubious look. "You're an odd Dwarf, Dwalin son of Fundin. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Dwalin chuckled. "Just you."

"Mmm," Nori said agreeably, and fell asleep between one breath and the next.

Dwalin lay beside her and watched her breathe until he finally fell asleep.

***

Nori awoke with the wound in her side sending low throbs of pain throughout her body. Dwalin was snoring gently with his head on the pillow next to hers. She was fairly sure that he was sleeping on her hair, which had by now completely escaped its braids.

He loved her. Dwalin, son of Fundin, guardsman, veteran of Azanulbizar and the destruction of Erebor, the most honorable Dwarf she'd ever met, loved her, Nori, daughter of no father, thief and grifter.

It sounded ridiculous, like one of the epic romances that Ori thought her older sisters didn't know she read, full of heaving bosoms and heroic warrior-kings. Real life was never like that.

Real life hadn't been like that at all. From the first day they'd met, Sigrun and Nori had fit together like puzzle pieces. Sigrun had come from an even poorer background than Nori, but they understood each other. They both knew that they would do anything they had to in order to protect themselves and the people they cared about. Honor was nothing; _loyalty_ was given only to family and those few who were as close as family.

And now here was Dwalin, with his rigid ideas about honor and doing what was right, telling her that he would look the other way while she stole. That he would back her up if she stole from the dead. Wouldn't that be something, breaking into a millennia-old crypt with Dwalin by her side. She might have to make that happen. 

Nori was startled out of her thoughts by a quiet knock at the door. The Hobbit woman, Eurwen, eased the door open and poked her head around the jamb. "Good evening," she said in an undertone. "How are you feeling? Do you need more willow bark tea?"

Nori grit her teeth against a particularly strong throb of pain. "Yes, please."

"I thought that might be the case." As Eurwen came fully into the room, Nori saw that she carried a tray with a steaming mug and a bowl of something bland-looking. "You'll need to sit up to drink this, I'm afraid."

Nori was surprised that Dwalin wasn't already awake from the noise and movement. On the road, she had noticed (while trying to pretend not to notice him at all) that he slept lightly and woke quickly. "Dwalin," she said. His breathing didn't change. "Oy, Dwalin, wake up. There's bacon," she lied when he still didn't stir.

Dwalin snorted as he woke up. "Hmm? Bacon?" he asked, opening his eyes. He saw Eurwen and sat up, looking grumpy. "There is no bacon." 

"But there is willow bark tea and a little oatmeal," Eurwen said, putting the tray down on the low table by the side of the pallet. "Help Mistress Nori to sit up and I'll pile some pillows behind her." 

They quickly got Nori situated with as little stress on her wound as possible. Eurwen handed her the mug while Dwalin sat next to the pallet again. 

"Could there be bacon later, though?" he asked hopefully.

"No, cousin, I'm afraid that isn't something I tend to have on hand here in the swamp," Eurwen said, gently teasing.

Nori's eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them. "Cousin? You're part _Hobbit_?" she demanded.

"No! I don't know why she refers to me that way, but there is no Hobbit blood in the line of Durin." Dwalin sounded mightily offended.

"Peace, Master Dwarf. I'm not implying there is," Eurwen said. "I'm referring to your skinchanger heritage."

Dwalin looked gobsmacked. "My what?"

"You know, that actually would explain a few things," Nori said. When Dwalin aimed an offended look in her direction, she explained, "The sniffing thing."

"That's not--there's nothing unnatural about that. I don't know what your game is, Hobbit," he growled. "But your claim is ridiculous. I am not a shapeshifter."

"I'm not saying you are," Eurwen said mildly. "Only that you have the blood of skinchangers in you. I can smell it," she said, tapping her nose. "It's weak enough that I doubt you would ever be able to change your shape, but it's there."

"What would he turn into?" Nori asked. She was endlessly entertained by watching Dwalin's face turning more and more red. "A cat like you?" She couldn't help but laugh out loud, clutching her side, at how offended Dwalin looked at that suggestion.

"No, indeed," Eurwen laughed. "He would be a badger, of course. And now I'll leave you two alone," she winked, looking terribly amused as she left the room.

Nori sipped at her tea after Eurwen left and watched Dwalin silently fume. She shifted on the pallet, deliberately letting herself make a low noise of pain.

Dwalin's attention instantly snapped to her. "Are you hurting, lass?"

"Yeah," Nori said, exaggerating the hoarseness of her voice. "I think the pain is worse than last night. I hope I'm not developing the wound fever again."

He leaned over and sniffed her, seeming unaware of his own actions. "No, there's no wound fever."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because you don't smell..." Dwalin trailed off, looking chagrined.

"I don't smell feverish?" Nori suggested, smiling gleefully. "Oh, don't look so sour. I think it's fascinating."

"It's ridiculous. And not true," Dwalin grumbled.

"I would never be able to just smell you and tell you whether you're running a fever, I'll tell you that much."

Dwalin made a grumpy noise.

Nori finished drinking her tea and handed him the mug. She hissed under her breath as she tried to ease herself down off of the mound of pillows. Dwalin hurried to put down the mug and help Nori get herself settled.

Nori could hardly keep her eyes open. "By Mahal's giant balls, being wounded is annoying." 

She blinked her eyes open after what she thought was just a few seconds but could have been longer. She didn't even remember closing her eyes. "Lie down with me? Just for a little while, until I fall asleep." Nori winced at how needy she sounded.

"Of course," Dwalin said. He carefully settled himself on the bed, lying on his side facing her on her left side, away from her injury.

Nori fought the urge briefly, but dammit, she was tired and in pain. She fumbled around until she found his left hand, lacing the fingers of her left hand with his and arranging them to rest above her heart. 

"You know, from the right angle your beard does look a bit stripey," she said. It was true--he had a few streaks of white in his beard that stood out from the grey and looked like stripes in the right light.

Dwalin grimaced. "I am not a badger."

"Of course not," Nori yawned. Everything was starting to feel very heavy. She mumbled, "Good night, _naraglavammuzm_."

***

"Good night, _naraglavamm..._ " Nori's eyes slid shut as she fell asleep in the middle of the word.

Dwalin lifted their joined hands and kissed her knuckles. "Good night, _ghivashel_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neo-Khuzdul translations: naraglavammuzm = badger; ghivashel = treasure of all treasures.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is drinking, talking, and dancing. Oh, and there's some kissing, too.

With the news that Nori was on the mend, the mood of the Company became celebratory. Mistress Eurwen traded to them several bottles of hard alcohol that she had distilled from a fruit that grew in the swamp. With a fire built in the courtyard and a giant kettle of spicy fish stew bubbling on the fire, a merry gathering was soon underway as the sun set.

Bombur had spent his afternoon up to the elbows in fish guts, but he thought that all the effort had been worth it now that the stew was almost done cooking.

"Try this," Bombur said, handing his ladle to Bofur for taste-testing. 

Bofur sipped at it and made a gesture of approval. "That is one tasty stew. I don't even mind that it's fish. You're missing out, Bifur."

Bifur made a rude gesture in Iglishmiek that didn't translate well into Westron. _I will survive somehow,_ he signed before returning to his vegetable-chopping.

"What are you making with those weeds?" Bofur asked.

Bifur sighed and paused again to sign, _Salad. Go bother someone else._

"Hey, Bofur, could you bring me a mug of the Hobbit liquor?" Bombur interrupted, trying to keep the peace. He loved his brother, but by Mahal's hammer, he could be irritating when he was bored.

Bofur came back with a mug of liquor in either hand. Bombur took a mug from him with thanks and poured some into the stew. Taking a sip of the stew, he nodded in satisfaction. Perfect.

Bofur took a long gulp from the other mug and sputtered, coughing. "That'll burn your beard right off!"

Bifur laughed at him, signing, _It cannot be that bad_.

"Try it!" Bofur said, handing him the mug.

Bifur took a long draught of the liquor. Bofur watched him, clearly waiting for him to choke, but Bifur simply handed the mug back to him and signed, _I must commend our host on her distilling techniques_.

Bombur looked around for their host and located her nearby, laughing at something Fili and Kili were saying. The firelight gleamed in her hair and outlined her figure, appealingly wide-hipped and ample-bosomed. 

Bofur had also been looking at their host. "Here, have the rest of mine," Bofur said, handing the mug back to Bifur. "I'll pass along your compliments."

Tipping his hat to a rakish angle, Bofur walked towards Mistress Eurwen with a spring in his steps.

"I should have known," Bombur said. "She's exactly his type. Short, pretty, and bossy."

Bifur shrugged. _Do not begrudge your brother for spreading his love freely._

"Oh, I don't. I get a little envious that he can find someone to flirt with wherever we go, but that's just Bofur," Bombur said. "Might as well begrudge water for being wet." 

Bofur was funny and could tell a good story, and people responded to that. Most of the time, Bombur didn't mind being able to hide in his brother's shadow. Most of the time.

Bifur nodded and they drank in silence for a few minutes before Bifur signed, _This celebration lacks music, cousin._

"Agreed," Bombur said, and went to go fetch their instruments.

***

Fili really hoped Bombur would be done with the stew soon so that he could get Kili to eat something, instead of drinking more on an empty stomach. Much more accustomed to ale than to hard liquor, his little brother was already starting to slur his words after downing one mug of the potent Hobbit liquor. 

"But are your cats _really_ cats?" Kili asked.

Smiling serenely, Mistress Eurwen said, "They have pointy ears, four legs and a tail, and they meow. Sounds like a cat to me."

"Yes, but..." His balance apparently becoming questionable, Kili leaned on Fili's shoulder. "Do they change into Hobbits like you?"

"There are no Hobbits quite like Mistress Eurwen," Bofur said as he joined the conversation, sweeping his hat off and bowing to her. "I'd wager my hat that she is unique."

"That's a safe bet, as all creatures are unique unto themselves," she said, shaking her head but already starting to look charmed by him.

"Well, that's a relief. I'd hate to lose my hat--though I wouldn't mind losing my hat to you," Bofur replied with a wink. Fili could tell that they'd completely lost Eurwen's attention to Bofur's shameless flirting. 

Steering his inebriated little brother with a firm grip on his elbow, Fili found them a quiet spot where they could sit against the courtyard wall on a couple of crates. "There you go. Why don't you stay here while I get you some stew?"

Kili looked sullen. "I'm not that drunk. You don't have to nursemaid me."

"Humor me," Fili said. Kili sighed dramatically and sprawled on the crates. Fili rolled his eyes and went to get him some stew.

On his way over to the stew kettle, Fili was waylaid by his mother. "How's your brother doing?" Dis asked, pulling him to the side.

Fili sighed. "Well, he's drunk and he thinks he's in love with Dwalin's lady thief. I think you can imagine how well he's doing."

Dis frowned. "He probably wouldn't appreciate his mother talking to him about it, would he?"

"Not right now. Maybe after he's sobered up."

"Sometimes I miss you two being in your thirties. You grow up so fast," she said, ruffling his hair.

"Mam," Fili whined, ducking away.

Dis gripped both of his forearms in a comforting hold, saying, "Take care of your brother."

"I will, Mam," Fili promised, tapping his forehead against hers before continuing on his way.

Returning to Kili with a bowl of fish stew, he found his little brother in earnest conversation with one of the huge cats that wandered Mistress Eurwen's tower. Or at least, Kili was speaking earnestly and the cat was making no effort to escape from his lap.

"What are you doing?" Fili asked.

"We are having a private conversation," Kili said with an attempt at dignity, which was pretty much a lost cause since he was slurring all of his consonants _and_ talking to a cat.

Fili shook his head. "Sure, little brother. Listen, you can continue your "private conversation" with the cat after you have some stew."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, then, I guess I'll have to eat it. Too bad for you, it's delicious," Fili said, settling in next to Kili and starting to spoon stew into his own mouth.

Kili glared at him. "Stop eating my stew."

"Oh, so now you're hungry?"

"Shut up," Kili grumbled, taking the bowl from him.

The cat opened its big golden eyes and stared at Fili, who glared back at it suspiciously. There was something weird about that cat.

***

"Young love, by Durin's beard!" Dis exclaimed as she sat down next to Thorin and Balin, against the courtyard wall opposite from her sons. "I'm glad all that nonsense is long behind me."

"Is all well with the lads?" Balin asked.

Dis shook her head and sighed. "Kili is attempting to drink away the pain of his broken heart." 

Balin chuckled. "He'll be regretting that decision come morning."

"I certainly don't envy him the hangover. Fili is watching him, though," Dis said. "He'll make sure Kili doesn't do anything stupid."

Thorin barely grunted in response. He was drinking Hobbit liquor from a mug that Dis could see was not his first or even his second, from the small collection he'd accumulated on the ground beside him. _Oh, Mahal_. It was going to be one of those nights. She had noticed him becoming quieter and more brooding as the journey continued, so she wasn't entirely surprised that whatever was bothering Thorin had finally come to a head.

She traded a look of commiseration with Balin behind Thorin's back. Much though she loved her brother, he could be moodier than a Warg with a thorn in its paw. And about as likely to bite off the head of anyone who tried to help him.

"Well, I think it's time to get myself some of that stew," Balin said, standing. Out of Thorin's line of sight, he gestured in Iglishmiek, _Good luck_.

Dis let her raised eyebrows answer for her.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Thorin continued to drink and stare moodily at the fire while Dis waited him out.

"Do you believe all that romantic nonsense about there being one perfect person for you?" Thorin asked abruptly.

"No, I don't," Dis said. She wondered where exactly this conversation was going. Normally Thorin got into one of his moody states while thinking about Erebor and all that they'd lost. Thorin talking about romance was new ground.

"But you and Vili," he said, gesturing with his mug. "You never even looked at another man after he died."

"I loved my Vili. So very much," Dis said, thinking of a bright grin and flashing brown eyes that she'd never see again. "And after he died I never wanted to take another husband. But there have been a few other men that I think I could have loved, if things had been different. If I'd never met Vili."

"I've never felt that," Thorin said. "Never looked anyone in the eye and thought _yes, you're the one_. Or even _maybe you could be_." Looking pensive, he drained his mug and dropped it on the ground.

"Some Dwarves don't." Dis shifted so that their shoulders and upper arms were pressed together. "There is no dishonor in being wed to your craft. Far from it. It is admirable to be so devoted to your craft." Many Dwarves simply never felt the urge towards marriage and family, too focused on their craft to have any interest in such things.

Thorin shook his head. "I don't think that's it, though. I've never felt that intense devotion to my craft. Smithing doesn't consume me that way."

Dis nodded thoughtfully. "There is no dishonor to simply being uninterested in matters of the flesh, either. You have heirs in Fili and Kili. There is no need for you to wed for the sake of inheritance."

Thorin frowned. Slowly, reluctantly, he admitted, "I have long thought that was the case, that I simply did not desire physical gratification as others do. But on this journey... I have had dreams." Then he clamped his mouth shut. Apparently that was all he was willing to say. 

Dis repressed the urge to shake him until words came out. That was never the right approach to take with Thorin. "Dreams?" 

It took Thorin several minutes to speak again. Slowly, he said, "I dream about the same... person... every night. This person is always alone. Always looking for me. But they are lost in a vast, empty Dwarven city, stretching shadowy and lightless into the distance. They call my name but I cannot answer."

"Thorin. Is this person male?" Dis asked. "Because you know I won't judge you for that."

Thorin looked down. "Yes, the person is male."

"And do you recognize him? Is this someone you've met before?"

Thorin shifted uncomfortably. "No. I'm fairly sure I haven't."

Dis gave him her best steely eye, developed through decades of raising two terribly mischievous Dwarflings. "There is something else you're leaving out."

Thorin chewed on his lower lip. "It's an Elf," he said at last, all in a rush. "Why in Durin's name would I be dreaming night after night about an _Elf_ searching for me in a ruined Dwarven city?"

To that, Dis had no answer.

***

"Nori is fine," Grimr said, catching Dori's fretful look up at the tower. "Dwalin is looking after her."

"I know," she said, putting her empty bowl of stew down. "Maybe I should check on her, though." Dori stood, hesitating, and felt Grimr's hand catch hers and gently tug.

"Nori won't be helped by you worrying yourself sick, my treasure," he said.

Dori allowed herself to be pulled back away from the tower. "Oh, very well. I'm checking on her later, though."

"Of course," Grimr said.

Bifur and Bombur struck up a sprightly tune, Bifur playing his recorder and Bombur playing his drum. Grimr extended his hand to Dori. "Care to dance?" he asked.

Dori could feel herself turn pink. It had been a good many years since she'd attracted this sort of attention. In her youth she'd been considered quite attractive, despite her questionable family. But particularly after Ori's birth, when Dori had been burdened with caring for an ailing mother and a newborn, opportunities to flirt with handsome Dwarves and dance the night away had become few and far between. To be more accurate, they had become non-existent.

"Why, Master Grimr, I would love to," Dori said, resting her hand on his and accompanying him to the space in front of the fire, which had become an impromptu dance floor.

Ori was teaching Bell how to dance the Dwarven dances while Bofur and Mistress Eurwen improvised something that appeared to be about halfway between Dwarven and Hobbit dancing. Dori spotted Dis trying to coax Thorin into dancing. She must not have succeeded, for the next time Dori spotted her she was dancing with Balin. Eurwen and Bell demonstrated a traditional Hobbit dance together. Then Bofur reclaimed his dance partner, dipping Eurwen and kissing her at length, right in the middle of everything.

Dori felt her eyebrows raise. "Well!" she said, a bit disapproving of Bofur's lack of decorum.

"Well?" Grimr asked. She blinked at him, confused, and he explained, "We can't let Bofur outkiss us. Honor is at stake."

"You, sir, are incorrigible." Dori shook her head at him, smiling despite herself. Shrugging, she placed her hands on his shoulders and balanced herself to be dipped.

"That's why you like me," Grimr said, and leaned her over into a deep, dramatic kiss.

The Company whistled and clapped. Dori threw decorum to the wind and kissed Grimr back.

When she regained her feet, she noticed a few pouches of coins flying between various members of the Company.

Dori smoothed her hand over her braids primly. "Right, what were the terms of the bet?" 

Bofur didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed. "Oh, we were betting on how many days on the road before the two of you became a couple."

"You're going to have to refund your winnings, because we've been together since the Hobbit market," Dori said. She laughed at the look on Bofur's face as he threw a coin purse back to Dis, who looked smug.

Dori gave Grimr a brief kiss and said, "Excuse me for a second." She managed to get Eurwen to herself for a moment and asked a quick question, getting the answer she had hoped for. 

With a tingle of excitement, Dori went to retrieve Grimr, who had ended up in one of his interminable discussions of Dwarven history with Balin. "I need to steal my Grimr back," Dori told Balin, not very apologetically.

"Yes?" Grimr asked as she pulled him to the side.

"We're staying somewhere with solid walls for once and Mistress Eurwen gave us the use of one of her upstairs rooms." Dori paused, wishing she were the kind of woman who could make a charming double-entendre, but in the end she was just plain workaday Dori. "Would you like to go upstairs with me?" she asked.

Grimr's voice became rougher and yet somehow softer at the same time. "My treasure--you're sure of this?"

Dori rolled her eyes. "We have been courting since the Shire and I've yet to see you with your shirt off. The answer is yes, for the love of Mahal, yes!"

***

Ori danced with Bell again after the Hobbit danced with Eurwen. They danced until they couldn't dance anymore and then fell, exhausted, into a giggling heap on a pile of soft cushions brought out from the tower.

Dori and Grimr had disappeared somewhere, Ori noticed and promptly decided to forget. She was happy for her sister, but very much did not want to know any details. 

She wondered how Nori was doing. Lady Dis had said she was much improved, but Ori would have preferred to see that with her own eyes.

"You're worrying about something, I can tell," Bell said. "Is it about your sister? Because Lady Dis and Mistress Eurwen say she's recovering quickly. Amazingly so, from a Hobbit perspective."

"Amazingly? How so?" Ori asked.

"She was stabbed in the side and developed wound fever. A Hobbit would be bedridden for weeks, but they expect Nori to be able to ride in two days."

Ori frowned thoughtfully. "I didn't realize Hobbits heal so slowly. We're going to have to be more careful with you."

Bell wrinkled her nose at her. "Is that why Dwarves seem fearless in battle? Because you heal so quickly?"

"I guess that's probably part of it," Ori said. "But mostly because it's an honorable death, to die in battle. Well, that's what Dori says. Nori says it's proof that you weren't smart enough to duck."

"I don't know," Bell said. "I'm proud that my mother died saving people, but... all things considered, I'd rather just have my mother back."

Ori hugged her. "It's hard, I know," she said. "My mum died when I was young, too."

It still hurt, even though Dori had been as much of a mother to her as Kori had been. More, really, for their mother had never really recovered from Ori's birth and had passed away while Ori was still quite young. A few times when Ori was little she had accidentally called Dori "Mum." Though it made Dori look sad and so Ori tried never to call her that, it didn't feel wrong, even though it was Kori who had actually borne her.

Bell hesitated for just a moment and then hugged her back. Ori had noticed before that Bell always seemed surprised by physical affection. Ori pulled back from the hug and asked, "Is hugging not something that Hobbits do?"

"What do you mean?" Bell asked. 

"You always seem surprised when I hug you," Ori explained. "If it's not something that Hobbits do, please let me know. I'd hate to make you uncomfortable."

Bell chewed on her lip. "It's true that Hobbits aren't as physically affectionate in general. We hug sometimes, but not... It seems like Dwarves touch each other a lot more than Hobbits. But," she said shyly, "I don't mind when it's you. I... I like it."

Ori glanced around them. The fire was dying down and it looked like most of the Company had gone inside. They were partly sheltered from view by the half-wall around the pony enclosure. It was about as private as things could get while traveling with a group of fourteen. 

This was the best chance she was likely to get. Steeling herself, Ori asked, "Do you like it because I'm a friend or do you like it because you like me? I mean, do you _like me_ , like me?"

Bell looked confused. "I like you! I like you a great deal."

"And I like you too! A lot," Ori said, trying to smile through the anxiety churning in her stomach.

"Errr, yes," Bell said, fiddling anxiously with her hair.

Despairing of her ability to get Bell to understand what she was trying to say, Ori flung herself back onto the cushions. She was doomed. Doomed to be forever alone because she couldn't explain to the girl that she liked that she was trying to flirt with her.

Bell's face appeared above her as the Hobbit leaned over Ori. "Ori, I have a question for you. Please don't get mad at me. Do Dwarves ever... you know... with two of the same sex? Two men together or... two women?"

"Yes," Ori said slowly.

"I have a follow-up question. Again, please, don't get mad at me." Bell paused and seemed to brace herself. "Are you trying to flirt with me?"

Ori said faintly, "Yes."

"We are too stupid to go on existing," Bell said, shaking her head sadly. "Only, I have been trying to flirt with you since Michel Delving."

Ori flopped a hand over her own eyes. "You have got to be joking." She realized that could be taken the wrong way and lifted her hand, saying urgently, "I have as well!"

"You have?" Bell asked, leaning down closer to her.

"Yes! I've been trying--" Ori stopped talking as Bell kissed her. Bell's lips were so soft, just a faint impression of pressure and warmth, brushing back and forth across Ori's lips and then slowly pulling away.

Ori opened her eyes and looked up at Bell, who was biting her lip as if fighting a smile. Ori said, "We should do that again."

"Should we?" Bell asked, a wide, beautiful smile spreading across her face.

"We have a lot of time to make up for. We could have been kissing a week and a half ago."

"You're right, you're absolutely right," Bell said, and then they spent a few hours working on making up for their delayed kissing.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Company is on the road again... and a creative solution is found to the accompanying lack of privacy.

The day that the Company was to leave Mistress Eurwen's tower dawned clear and relatively cool, good omens for continuing their travel.

Nori climbed carefully onto her pony, using a crate as a stepping stool since she refused to let anyone pick her up and put her on the saddle. Her side was healing well but it was still painful to bend her torso. It was entirely possible that she wasn't ready to ride yet, but Nori figured that she would just tough it out.

"You're sure you're ready to ride, lass?" Dwalin asked, standing beside the pony with his hand on Nori's knee. "I'm sure Mistress Eurwen wouldn't mind if we stayed a few extra days."

Nori nodded, trying not to let the strain show in her voice as she said, "I'm sure. For one thing, if I spend any more time stuck in that tower I'm going to go mad from boredom." Seeing that Dwalin still looked worried, she tried to smile reassuringly. "I'm fine. I'll let you know if I'm hurting enough to want to stop."

Dwalin looked like he didn't trust that she would, which just went to prove that he was a lot smarter than most people thought. "Be sure that you do," was all that he said, though.

The morning wasn't too bad. It was after stopping for lunch that she really started hurting, but Nori refused to call a stop no matter how much pain she was in. It was bad enough being wounded. She didn't want to add being weak on top of that. Weak thieves were quickly dead thieves.

Dwalin called a stop for the day when he noticed that she had turned pasty white and was swaying in her saddle. He and Dori lifted her off the pony and carried her to a place where she could sit with her back supported by a boulder padded with bedrolls, which was so Mahal-damned embarrassing that Nori snapped at both of them to stop fussing and leave her alone.

Dwalin said nothing, turning around and stomping off. Nori did not watch him go. 

"You're well enough to be a terrible patient, I see," Dori said. "I'll leave you alone to sulk now. Bellow for me if you need anything."

The irritation drained away suddenly, leaving Nori feeling hollowed out and guilty for being awful to them when Dwalin and Dori were only trying to help. She remembered this feeling of helplessness and frustration from the last time she'd been badly injured, after Grimr dragged her home half-dead from the Grey Mountains. Dori was right. She was a terrible patient.

Later, Ori brought her dinner. Nori thanked her and put her bowl to the side after a cursory sniff. Smelled like Bombur had made rabbit stew, which was actually a nice change after several days of nothing but fish, but she wasn't hungry.

"I'm supposed to stay here until you eat that," Ori said, crossing her arms and looking stubborn in a way that had definitely been picked up from Dori.

"Fine," Nori sighed, picking her bowl back up and stirring it aimlessly. "How did you get stuck with Nori-watching duties?"

"Dori wanted to have some time with Grimr--probably for kissing--and Dwalin is sparring with Thorin, Fili, and Kili."

"All three of them at the same time?" Nori asked, already sure she knew what the answer was.

"I think that he had some frustration to work off," Ori said primly.

Nori poked at her food glumly. "I know, I'm a terrible patient. I'm not sure how anyone puts up with me right now."

Ori sighed as if Nori was being deeply stupid. "Well, Dwalin is in love with you. That probably helps."

"Does everyone in the whole _Company_ know?" Nori was not sure how she felt about that. Traveling in a group of this size was like living in a small village: everybody knew everyone else's business.

"It's not hard to figure out. Any idiot could see that Dwalin is devoted to you."

"Poor bastard," Nori said, shaking her head. 

Ori giggled but didn't argue with her. Smart child.

"So, you and Bell," Nori said.

Ori looked a bit like a rabbit with a hawk circling overhead. "Bell and I... what?"

"I've been sitting around doing nothing for two days," Nori said. "My only entertainment is people watching. I noticed you two wandering around starry-eyed and put two and two together."

"Is it that obvious?" Ori asked, looking worried.

Nori chuckled. "Well, that and I saw the two of you kissing in the courtyard yesterday. Don't worry, I won't tell Dori. And I doubt she'll notice on her own, seeing as she's so distracted by Grimr these days."

"You're not... upset? Because Bell isn't a Dwarf?"

"No, _namadith_ ," Nori said. She reached out the arm on her uninjured side and Ori sat down next to her, tucked under her arm. 

Nori leaned her head against Ori's. "Bell is smart and thinks quickly on her feet. She's a sweet kid and she adores you," Nori said, squeezing Ori with the arm around her shoulders. "I'm happy for you."

Ori sniffled. "Thank you, _namad_ ," she said, sounding a little teary.

"None of that," Nori said, tugging on one of Ori's braids. "I'll step in for you with Dori if she kicks up a fuss, all right?"

Her little sister nodded, beaming but damp-eyed, and Nori sent her off to spend time with her sweetheart. Dis brought over a mug of willow bark tea. Once Nori finished that and the bowl of stew she found that she could not keep her eyes open any longer and fell asleep sitting up.

***

Nori had fallen asleep sitting up, Dwalin found when he returned to the campsite from sparring with Thorin, Fili, and Kili. Someone had arranged a bolster so that her head was supported and her neck wasn't bent uncomfortably. 

"Oh, lass," he murmured under his breath, brushing back errant strands of red hair that had worked their way out of her braid. 

Now that he'd worked out his frustration and was feeling calmer, he thought he might understand why she'd pushed herself so hard. She was used to taking care of herself and not having anyone to depend on other than Grimr. Dwalin had serious doubts about the wizard's reliability, since he'd reportedly almost gotten her killed at least once. So he could see how letting anyone else take care of her might make Nori anxious.

Dwalin was just going to have to get better at taking care of her without making it obvious that that was what he was doing.

She clearly needed the sleep, so Dwalin brushed a kiss over her temple and went to find some stew. 

He wolfed down a bowl of stew that didn't include even a little bit of fish, thank Mahal, and was contemplating an after-dinner smoke when Balin found him. "Evening, brother," Balin said casually. "Care for a smoke?"

Balin led him to a fallen log a little distance from camp where they could sit and smoke in privacy. Dwalin had a bad feeling about this. His older brother never did anything without a purpose.

"It's a fine evening, isn't it?" Balin asked, lighting his pipe and offering Dwalin the match to use on his own pipe.

"What do you want?" Dwalin asked. He'd never had the patience for diplomacy.

"Oh, just the pleasure of your company." Balin puffed contentedly at his pipe for a few minutes. Then just when Dwalin had started to relax, Balin asked, "How is Nori doing?"

"She's as well as can be expected," Dwalin said cautiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Why shouldn't I be interested in the welfare of my future sister-in-law?" Balin asked.

Dwalin choked on an inhalation of smoke, coughing while Balin pounded him on the back. "Sister-in-law?" he asked.

"You're not planning on dishonoring the young woman, I trust," Balin said, fixing him with a steely glare. "I can understand getting ahead of yourselves on the road, but the moment we're settled you're going to make an honest woman of her."

Dwalin sputtered. "Of course I'm going to--wait, _you're_ trying to pressure me into marrying Nori? I thought I'd need to convince you to overlook her family."

"If this all works out, Nori will be a very wealthy woman, with a full share of any profit from the expedition." Balin's eyes went distant as he mused, "Mithril mines, by Durin's beard! We'll all be rich as Hrathi Stonefist. Ha, I suppose actually we'll be a fourteenth as rich as Hrathi." His eyes settled piercingly on Dwalin again. "Money can buy respectability. With enough money and an excellent law scribe, we can make it seem as if Nori and her family have always been completely respectable."

Sometimes, Dwalin's brother was just a tiny bit terrifying. Not that Dwalin was afraid of him, of course. 

"Not that I'm not grateful that you're not fighting me on this, but... why _aren't_ you fighting me on this?"

Balin shrugged, puffing on his pipe. "You're not getting any younger or better looking, brother. If you've finally found a woman who'll marry you, I'll not stand in your way. Far from it. I had begun to think our family line would end with the two of us."

Dwalin chuckled uncomfortably and didn't say anything. He knew that it was dishonest not to tell Balin that Nori couldn't have children. But if Balin knew that, it was entirely possible that he might decide to make things very difficult for them in the hopes of settling Dwalin with a woman who could bear him heirs.

"With the three shares combined--hers, yours, and mine--your future heir will be the wealthiest Dwarf in the kingdom. Excepting Prince Fili, of course." He paused, sucking on his pipe with his eyes narrowed. "And if you have a daughter, we could arrange a match with one of the princes. Probably Kili. Unfortunately I don't think that even I could make Nori's family respectable enough for the crown prince."

"You're already marrying off my and Nori's theoretical future children?" Dwalin asked incredulously.

"Don't think of it as marrying them off," Balin said. "Think of it as dynasty-building."

"You had better be joking."

"Of course," Balin said, his eyes twinkling.

(Dwalin was pretty sure that he wasn't joking.)

When he made his escape from that conversation, he found that Nori was still asleep sitting up. The sun had set and the Company was settling in for the night, and if she slept like that all night she really would hate herself in the morning.

Dwalin crouched in front of Nori and called her name. They had already discovered that they both had reflexes that made touching either of them to wake them up a really bad idea. "Time to go to bed," Dwalin said when Nori woke up.

She blinked, looking confused as she looked around the campsite. "What? How long was I asleep?" 

"Just a few hours." He went to pick her up and she stopped him with a gesture. 

"I can get up on my own," she said. Dwalin raised his hands in surrender. She braced herself and started to stand, then whimpered as she slowly collapsed back down. "It's possible that I do need a little help," she said, gritting her teeth.

Ori popped up out of nowhere, saying, "I'll lay out the bedrolls while you pick her up."

"Oh, Mahal's giant bollocks," Nori grumbled as Dwalin picked her up with an arm around her back and an arm under her knees.

"Not exactly the way I'd thought about carrying you to bed," he said in an undertone as Ori spread out their bedrolls. 

Grinning, Nori raised her eyebrows at him. "Really, now?"

He couldn't resist that look of mischief in her eyes. "Well, the way I was thinking about it, your legs would be--"

"Here you go!" Ori interrupted loudly. "All set. Good night," she said, beating a hasty retreat.

Nori laughed, clutching at her side. "Ow, fuck," she groaned as Dwalin gently placed her on the bedroll.

"Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling next to her.

"Yes, just... give me a minute," she said, blinking away tears of pain that Dwalin pretended not to see, knowing how much she hated anyone seeing her being what she considered weak. "I hate being wounded."

"Do I need to get Dis?"

Nori chewed on her lip. "Maybe."

Dis took a look at Nori's side, determined that none of her stitches had torn, gave her more willow bark tea, and scolded her for pushing herself too hard. Nori solemnly promised to take it easier, to call breaks when she needed it, and let people know when she was in pain.

After Dis left, Dwalin said, "Nori, I know you were lying to her when you agreed to all that, but I'm going to ask you to please let me know when you're hurting. Will you do that for me, lass?"

Nori sighed. "Meeting you halfway, right? Very well. I'll let you know when the pain gets too bad." 

She cast him as sly look and added, smirking, "Since you _badgered_ me into it."

***

The next day was much better. Nori's wound was less painful and she didn't push herself to the edge of collapse before calling a stop for the day. She actually managed to eat dinner and sit up for a while afterwards without falling dead asleep like she had the day before. Dis took a look at her wound and declared that her healing was coming along quickly. 

Still, by nightfall, Nori was feeling like she'd been run over by a herd of oliphaunts. She had Dwalin spread their bedrolls out at a slight remove from the rest of the camp, not too far for safety but far enough for a little privacy. Groaning, Nori laid down on the bedroll and glared up at the starry sky. "I hate being wounded."

Dwalin laid down on his side between her and the rest of camp, faintly outlined by the light of the low campfire. Grasper and Keeper were carefully placed on the ground behind him. 

Nori's thigh holsters were packed away in her saddle-bag. She'd had to admit to herself that the awkwardness of putting them on and taking them off when she couldn't bend very easily was really not worth it. Which was not to say that she was unarmed--even without the two long knives that she normally carried in the thigh holsters, she was still carrying over half a dozen knives on her.

Though at this point she had to wonder if she'd be able to do anything other than wave her knives menacingly if the Company was attacked.

"You're healing quickly," Dwalin said. "You'll be hewing rock in no time."

"Sure," Nori sighed. "Distract me?" At his quizzical look, she said, "Tell me something. Like... oh, I know. Yesterday, when you said you thought carrying me to bed would be a bit different."

Dwalin scowled, but Nori knew it was his stubborn scowl, not his angry scowl. Dwalin had a number of different scowls with different meanings. "It was nothing."

"Oh," Nori said gleefully. "It's a sex thing. Were you fantasizing about me? Tell me."

"Nori," Dwalin said, sounding reluctant. "You're not well enough to..."

"Oh, I know, trust me, I know. But it'll distract me from being exhausted and in pain. Please?" she asked, shamelessly aware that Dwalin crumbled like a biscuit whenever she said please. If she were a better person, she wouldn't take advantage of that. But she wasn't a better person, she was Nori.

Dwalin sighed and shook his head, but scooted closer to her so that he could murmur into her ear. "I was thinking about carrying you to a big bed, somewhere in Ered Luin or... maybe it was Erebor. You're dressed as Lady Nezhka, in that low-cut green dress with your veil on and your hair all braided up."

"Go on," Nori said, smiling. It was flattering to know that Dwalin had detailed fantasies specifically about her.

"I'm carrying you with your legs around my waist, your skirt hiked up to your thighs. You're wearing your thigh holsters under your skirt again. I can't kiss you with your veil on so I'm biting your neck while I carry you to the bed."

"Do you want me to go on, lass?" Dwalin asked, his voice rumbling in his chest. 

Nori took a deep breath. It was possible that this hadn't been her best plan, since she could already feel the warmth building between her legs. "Yes," she whispered.

"I put you down on the edge of the bed. It's just the right height so that my cock is rubbing against your cunt when I stand between your legs. I can feel through my trousers that you're not wearing anything under your skirt other than your holsters." Dwalin swallowed. She could feel his fingers brushing against her hip and guessed that he was rubbing the heel of his hand against his cock.

He continued, "I breathe in your scent at the hollow of your throat and you smell so good, like baking bread and sex. I start taking your braids out, combing my fingers through your hair as I free it from the braids. I reach the fastening to your veil and you tell me to untie it. I take your veil off and then we kiss, like this," he said, leaning over her and kissing her deeply, their mouths sliding together in a slow, luxurious tongue fuck.

This had been a terrible plan, Nori thought, squeezing her thighs together. "Go on," she said when he pulled back from the kiss. She slid her left hand inside her trousers and cupped her hand over her cunt. She didn't normally do this with her off hand so it felt a little clumsy at first, but Nori had always been clever with her fingers.

"You're rubbing yourself, aren't you?" Dwalin asked. "Mahal, I want to see that." He paused for a moment, there was a rustle of cloth, and then he continued, "I finish taking your braids out and kneel in front of you. I kiss up and down your thighs and then I can't resist it anymore and I bury my face in your cunt. You're dripping wet already, soaking my beard as I fuck you with my tongue. I suck on your pearl until you're moaning, almost there, and then I slide a finger into you and you go off, squeezing down on my finger and almost screaming as you come."

Nori turned her head and Dwalin shifted so that she could murmur into his ear, "What then? Do you stuff my cunt full with your big cock?"

Dwalin was panting a little as he growled into her ear, "You'd love that, wouldn't you? Love the feel of my cock stretching out your tight little cunt. You're so tiny, it has to hurt a little at first. But you like that it hurts, don't you?" Nori nodded vigorously, afraid that if she said anything her voice would be too loud. She rubbed her pearl with the tips of her fingers, feeling the tension start to build in her stomach.

"No," he growled. Nori almost moaned out loud in disappointment. "Not this time. You take off your dress and lie down on the bed. I kneel straddling your chest and start tugging myself off. You're playing with your nipples, squeezing them and rolling them between your fingers. I'm so close, and I lean over and brace myself on the bed with one hand and then I come... all over... your breasts," he said, burying his face in her shoulder to muffle his groan as he came. 

Nori rubbed her fingers over her pearl as she came to her peak, a honey-sweet, slow wave of pleasure that left her feeling warm, pleased, and very sleepy.

"Did you...?" Dwalin murmured into her ear. She nodded and they kissed softly, sweetly, until one of them fell asleep and the other followed soon after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neo-Khuzdul translations: namadith = little (young) sister, namad = sister.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an important conversation finally takes place, the plot thickens, and we wander further away from canon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are indeed wandering further away from canon here, but bear with me--there are reasons for the changes.

The land grew brown and dull as they headed further south. Ori thought the land around the Swanfleet had been much more interesting, lush and green, full of animals and birds. Now there was just mile after mile of grassy plains, with occasional boulders. Grimr said they had reached the Dunlands and Nori said to be on watch for bandits. Master Dwalin and Lord Thorin doubled the watches when they made camp at night.

Nori was getting better, but Dori was still frustrated that she was pushing herself too hard. That evening, Ori had been the unwilling mediator to an argument between her sisters which had only ended when Nori had stormed off in a fury. Dori had immediately stomped off in the opposite direction. Feeling contrary, Ori sat down right where she was and ate the bowl of duck stew she'd been bringing to Nori for her dinner.

Ori deposited her bowl with the rest of the dirty dishes waiting to be washed and went to find Bell, since neither of them were on dishes duty that evening. Bell was sitting with her back to a boulder, scribbling in a notebook with a battered-looking quill. 

Ori made a note to herself to buy Bell a new quill the next time they were in a town. She felt a little bubble of happiness that she had a sweetheart now that she could give presents to. A quill, a new notebook, and... well, Ori didn't have enough money to get anything really nice. Maybe she could get Nori to help her make a writing case out of leather. 

Bell looked up and smiled as Ori walked over to her. Packing away her writing supplies carefully, she asked, "Everything all right with your sister?"

"She's terribly stubborn, grumpy as a Warg with a sore tooth, and is probably going to push herself too hard and re-injure herself," Ori reported as she sat down with her arm brushing against Bell's.

"I'm sorry," Bell said, sliding her hand into Ori's and weaving their fingers together. Bell's hands were so soft that Ori was always a little worried that her rough, callused hands would abrade the Hobbit's skin.

"It's fine," Ori said. "That's just Nori. She was like that the last time, too, once she woke up." 

Actually, it had been worse, because once Nori had woken after days of unconsciousness she'd also had to deal with the knowledge that her lover had died. Oh, Nori had never _said_ that was what the mysterious Sigrun had been to her, but it was pretty clear to Ori that they had been lovers. She didn't believe that anyone would wake from nightmares shouting someone's name every single night if they were just good friends.

Ori shook her head, pushing the old memories away. "Let's talk about something else. What were you writing? If you don't mind me asking."

Bell looked down and bit her lip. "I was writing about the quest. It's not a secret, is it? Like your language?"

"You are? I am too!" Ori bounced with excitement. "We'll have to compare our notes at the end of the journey. Maybe we could author a history of it together."

"What a grand idea! Yes, we will write a history together and then we will become very famous. Scholars will come from far and wide to ask us about the quest to reclaim Dracadelf," Bell said, raising her chin and looking imperious. Ori started giggling, Bell lost the fight to keep a straight face, and then they were both giggling, leaning against the boulder.

Once they had sobered up, Bell said, "So, you explained about the lost city of Dracadelf and how it was destroyed by a dragon. But I have a question, and it may be a dumb one."

"Master Balin says that while there are some stupid questions, most of them are simply poorly thought-out," Ori said.

Folding her hands together, Bell cleared her throat. "So, Master Grimr said that the dragon destroyed the city and that the surviving Dwarves sealed the mountain behind them as they fled. He never said what happened to the dragon, though. It's dead, right? I mean, there isn't a dragon at the end of this quest, is there? Because if there is, that doesn't strike me as very sensible."

"It has to be dead by now," Ori said. "Dracadelf was destroyed near the beginning of the Third Age, so it was at least 2500 years ago. There's no way that a dragon has survived for over 2500 years without food. Master Balin says they can sleep for decades at a time, but they leave their lairs to hunt at least every forty or so years."

"Good, because I really don't know what thirteen Dwarves and a Hobbit could do against a live dragon," Bell said, shaking her head. 

"Let's hope we don't have to find out," Ori said, shivering.

*** 

After dinner, Fili swung an arm over his little brother's shoulders and started steering him towards the stretch of soft grass where Ori and the Hobbit girl were already sitting. "Have a smoke with me."

Kili said sulkily, "I don't really feel like--"

"Well, then, sit with me while I have one," Fili said, tightening his grip warningly.

Kili sighed like everything in the world was conspiring to make his life difficult and allowed Fili to steer him. Fili rolled his eyes. By Durin's beard, Kili was being a pain.

Lighting his pipe, Fili eavesdropped on the girls' conversation. Beside him, Kili lay flat on the grass, staring up at the sky. Probably mentally composing odes to Nori's hair, or knives or whatever.

"Why does Master Balin know so much about dragons?" Bell asked.

"Erebor," Ori said.

"What's Erebor?"

Fili supposed it made sense, in a bleak sort of way, that the great tragedy of the Dwarven people hadn't even been a footnote in the Shire.

"Erebor was the Dwarven kingdom where most of our families came from," Ori explained. "We're not originally from Ered Luin. Well, I think Master Bofur and his kin are, but other than them, all of our families fled Erebor when a dragon named Smaug attacked the city."

"Smaug?" Bell asked. "How do you know the dragon's name?"

"I don't know," Ori admitted after a pause.

Still flat on his back, Kili said, "Everyone knows the dragon's name is Smaug." 

Fili glanced at his brother quickly, surprised that Kili was even taking an interest in anything other than wallowing in angst. Maybe this was a good sign.

"Yes, but someone must have found out its name somehow," Bell said. "Can dragons talk? Did someone speak to it?"

"You don't talk to a dragon," Kili scoffed, sitting up. "You just try to kill it."

"And avoid being eaten," Fili added.

"What happened to Erebor? How did your families escape?" Bell asked.

Kili said, "Uncle Thorin says that first the dragon destroyed the city of Men that stood outside the gates of Erebor--"

"Dale," Fili interrupted.

"Right, Dale," Kili said. "Then after it was done destroying Dale, it flew to Erebor and attacked the front gates. Uncle Thorin and the Guard mustered just inside. When the dragon broke down the gates, they attacked it but they couldn't do anything against it. Smaug went through an army of Dwarven warriors like a cat batting around mice." When Fili glared at him, Kili protested, "That's what Dwalin said, and he was there."

"So how on earth did anyone get out?" Bell asked.

"The dragon was only interested in the treasure," Fili explained. "It went straight for the treasure vault and stayed there. The survivors were able to escape through the front gates."

Kili added, "Mother said there were thousands of Dwarves streaming out the front gates with whatever belongings they could grab."

"Then what happened?" Bell asked, looking worried. "You said the city outside the gates was destroyed too. Where did they go?"

"The Elvenqueen of Mirkwood refused to aid us against the dragon," Fili said. "Refused us the military aid that as our ally she had sworn to provide. Our people wandered, homeless, for decades until we finally settled in Ered Luin."

"But Queen Merillael did at least allow us to pass through Mirkwood," Ori pointed out. "Master Balin said the casualties if our people had been forced to go north of Mirkwood through the Withered Heath would have been terrible."

Fili scowled. "Be that as it may, we still remember that the Elves are oathbreakers when it suits them."

"Is Smaug still in Erebor?" Bell asked. Fili noticed Ori giving her a grateful look, probably for changing the subject.

Fili exchanged a look with Kili, remembering arguments between their mother and uncle about this very subject. "I don't know," Fili said. "I've heard both opinions, that he's still alive but sleeping, or that he's finally died of some old injury. Dragons never willingly leave their hoards unless it's to steal a greater hoard, and there was no richer kingdom in Middle Earth than Erebor."

Kili frowned. "Uncle Thorin says the dragon is dead," he said firmly.

Fili chewed on the mouthpiece to his pipe and didn't say anything. Kili still had absolute faith that their uncle was always right. Fili, on the other hand, was beginning to question that.

***

After their talk with Ori and Bell about Smaug, Kili finally managed to get away from his brother so that he could go have some quality moping time without Fili trying to cheer him up. 

They had camped in a meadow near a small stream. Kili wandered down to the stream bed and picked up a handful of smooth pebbles, tossing them into the water aimlessly.

"Kili," a female voice called. 

Kili turned around and froze. Nori stood there with a crooked smile on her face. The very last person he would have expected.

"Yes?" Kili answered cautiously.

"Walk with me," she said. "I think we need to talk."

Kili's thoughts ran in circles as they walked silently along the stream. Why would Nori want to talk to him? Part of him couldn't help hoping that she was going to say she chose him over Dwalin, even though he knew what a stupid hope that was.

"Here should be good," Nori said, stopping at an outcropping of rock that was a convenient size to sit on. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, listening to the rustle of wind in the grass and the faint sounds of conversation carried from the campsite.

Kili took the opportunity to surreptitiously watch Nori as she stared out over the stream. Her face had lost the pinched-lip grimace of pain she'd worn since the orc attack. She looked calm and pensive, strands of long red hair escaped from her braid floating in the breeze.

"I owe you an apology," Nori said abruptly, still staring out over the stream. "I should have talked to you weeks ago. I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked, genuinely confused.

Nori chewed on her lip. "For not saying anything to you when I realized you were developing feelings for me."

"Oh." Kili wanted to sink into the earth in embarrassment.

"I should have said something. There's no excuse for that. But I guess I found it flattering." She angled a look at him out of the corner of her eye. "That a handsome prince had a thing for me."

"You don't have to lie to make me feel better," Kili muttered.

She frowned at him. "I lie for a number of reasons, but I don't lie just to make people feel better. I'm not lying when I say you're attractive."

Kili ducked his head, his cheeks burning. "But I don't have a beard," he mumbled.

Nori laughed. Kili stood up to storm away but she caught his hand, saying, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed. Please, sit down."

Reluctantly, Kili sat down again and was disappointed when she let go of his hand.

"The length of your beard has nothing to do with whether you're attractive," Nori said. "Bofur pulls like there's no tomorrow, and all he has is that ridiculous moustache and that chinstrap thing. Trust me, you're handsome."

Kili frowned. "So, if you find me attractive, then why...?"

"Because I'm involved with Dwalin, and it's... serious, I guess." She looked away, smiling at some private thought. Kili was pretty sure the jealousy was going to eat a hole in his stomach.

"If you'd never met Dwalin. Do you think... you and me?" he asked, unable to resist torturing himself.

"I don't deal in might-have beens," Nori said dismissively. She paused, then said more slowly, "But if I hadn't met Dwalin... I don't know. I spent time with you because I liked you, Kili." 

"I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse," he said. "Maybe both?"

"We probably would have had a lot of fun getting into trouble together." She winked slyly and nudged him with her shoulder. 

"Yeah," Kili said wistfully.

"But then your mother would have had me killed, so in the end it's probably for the best," she said. Kili laughed, but he noticed that she did not. 

"Are we all right, Kili?" she asked.

Kili swallowed and nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." She slid off the boulder and, placing a hand on his shoulder, leaned forward to tap her forehead lightly against his. "I'd better go."

Kili watched her walk away. "Hey!" he called. Nori turned around and looked at him, continuing to walk backwards despite the uneven ground. "My mam wouldn't really have had you killed, would she?"

Nori shrugged. "I guess we'll never find out. Good night, Kili."

"Good night." Kili watched her walk away until she faded into the shadows.

His smile dropped away slowly and he sighed. It still hurt, but... he thought maybe it was starting to hurt a little bit less.

***

_He stood in an empty Dwarven city, stretching away from him lightless and lifeless into the distance. Though there were no torches, still he could see perfectly. Though he seemed ghostly and insubstantial in this dream, still he could walk and idly touch things as he passed: here a crumbled bit of masonry, there a perfectly preserved wall carving._

_There were signs of destruction everywhere--scorch marks on the walls, shattered buildings, whole chunks taken out of the high arches that led from cavern to cavern. Yet for all that the deserted city seemed strangely clean, as if someone had cleaned up after the destruction but left the city empty. There were no skeletons anywhere, though surely such devastation must have come with a corresponding loss of life._

_Thorin shivered, thinking of the day that Smaug had descended upon them._

_He wandered the halls of the city aimlessly, hoping to find some sign of why he was here, in this unfamiliar, deserted city, and not his city, his home--Erebor._

_He began to hear a distant murmur, a voice speaking words that he couldn't understand. He hurried toward the voice, suddenly speeding forward as one does in a dream, so that he reached a vast cavern in a matter of moments. The cavern was crossed by a single narrow bridge, lit mysteriously by blue, glowing jewels, above what seemed a bottomless pit._

_There was a lit balcony at the other end of the long bridge. Thorin could just barely see that someone was sitting on the edge of the balcony, his or her legs dangling above the endless fall. He tried to rush towards the person, but now it was as if he was moving through deep water, slowing him and pushing back against every step._

_It seemed hours before he reached the other end of the bridge. As he grew closer, he could see that the person was an Elf, of all things. Why was an Elf in a ruined Dwarven city?_

_The Elf looked up as Thorin neared. Thorin had a blurred impression of long golden hair and icy blue eyes. "You're **late** ," the Elf said bitterly, and threw what at first seemed like a small gem at him. The gem burst into flame and grew into a fireball the size of his chest, slamming into him but somehow not immolating him, pushing him over the edge of the bridge. And then he was falling, falling into that bottomless pit--_

Thorin sat up suddenly, breathing hard. 

The familiar sounds and smells of camp surrounded him. They had stopped leaving the campfire burning at night due to the danger of bandits, but he could see enough in the starlight to be sure that he was exactly where he'd been when he'd fallen asleep.

Thorin put a hand to his chest, for some reason expecting to feel charred flesh and bone even though he wasn't in any pain. There was nothing but the familiar feeling of his armor, of course.

The Elf had shouted something at him, after he'd thrown the fireball. What had he said? Thorin had the terrible feeling that it had been something extremely important, but he couldn't remember the Elf's words.

Other than the nonsensical accusation that Thorin was late, of course. How could Thorin be late to a meeting he'd never set, in a city he'd never been to, with an Elf he'd never met before?

Though something about the Elf did seem strangely familiar.

Feeling troubled, Thorin lay back down and attempted to fall asleep. Sleep eluded him for quite some time however, as he found himself lying awake and staring into the darkness to the southeast.

***

On a bluff above the Fords of Isen, there waited a Dwarf woman with a livid scar stretching down the left side of her face from her temple to her lip. 

The Hobbit she'd spoken to in the Shire had sent her on a wild goose-chase after the Dwarven trade caravan. She had caught up to them past Bree and found that the old man and his group must have split off from them in Michel Delving and taken the Greenway south. Faced with the need to backtrack and the possibility of trailing the old man for hundreds of leagues on the Greenway and never catching up with him, she had decided instead to cut her losses. 

The Fords were the only place where the River Isen could be crossed between Isengard and the sea, and so she waited here for the old man to show himself. She had chosen a hiding spot that was hidden behind a screen of dead bushes from the eyes of the lackadaisical Rohirrim patrols that rode through the area periodically. The old man would show himself eventually. She had been following his trail for years. She wasn't going to lose him now.

Soon after reaching the Fords, she had been lucky enough to find a Raven that spoke Westron and was willing to carry a message. She had sent the bird to the mountain with a note tied around its leg.

_My Thegn,_

_The old man has the map and key. I was unable to retrieve them in Ered Luin and lost his trail in the Shire. I now await him at the Fords of Isen. I swear to you that I will stop him before he opens the door or else die trying._

_I remain your humble servant,_

_Ingrith_

The Raven had returned after several days, flapping to a halt on top of a boulder. 

"Well?" Ingrith asked. "Do you bear a message?"

The bird hopped from foot to foot and settled its feathers before saying in its rasping voice, "Hungry work, flying all this way from the mountain. You have blackberries?" It turned its head and looked at her with a beady black eye.

Grumbling, Ingrith gave it half of the blackberries she'd been saving for later and waited impatiently for it to finish eating. "Do you bear a message?" she repeated after the Raven was done.

The Raven clacked its beak. "The soft Dwarf with lots of shiny rings says "Do not fail me again." There was also some cursing, but I do not believe that was part of the message." The bird cocked its head and made a _toc-toc-toc_ noise that sounded distinctly mocking.

"My thanks," Ingrith said. The response was not unexpected. She knew where her duty lay and she would not fail again.

Movement on the fords caught her eye. A company of about a dozen Dwarves on ponies picked their way across the shallow water. As they crossed the ford and stopped for a brief questioning by the Rohirrim patrol, she was certain that she saw the old man and his pet thief. 

Ingrith readied herself to follow as the Dwarven company turned south along the line of the mountains.

The Raven cawed. "You intend to follow the other Dwarves?"

"Yes, I do, so keep your voice down," she said. "I thank you for your aid, but right now I have no further need of you. You may go."

The bird _toc-toc-tocced_ again. The sound appeared to be its version of laughter. "I may do what I choose," it said. "Dwarves do not tell Ravens what to do."

What it chose to do, apparently, was follow Ingrith as she shadowed the old man's company of Dwarves. There was little she could do about it except to hope that the bird wouldn't reveal her, either accidentally or for its own amusement.

"You have more blackberries?" the Raven asked, clacking its beak meaningfully in the direction of her belt pouch.

Ingrith sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the Scarred Woman, who's been chasing them since Ered Luin? No? Well, I... guess I kind of didn't mention her for a while. *cough* So yes, she's the same woman who hired the Mithril Hand to hunt down Grimr and Nori in Ered Luin, and was later completely snowed by Bell's crafty old Uncle Isengrim. (And nope, she's not Sigrun.)


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which trouble comes to Dracadelf's door.

The White Mountains were as tall or even taller than the Misty Mountains, snow-topped and rising in a great tangle of peaks to the southeast. Nori thought they were very beautiful, though she'd prefer to travel underneath them rather than on top of them.

They followed the line of the mountains southwest from the Ford, where bored-looking Men on horseback had asked them to state their business and hardly even waited for them to say "trade caravan" before waving them through. Men apparently believed that any group of Dwarves smaller than an army could realistically be a trade caravan, despite their glaring lack of any pack ponies or trade goods.

They stopped once they were out of eyesight of the Men so that Nori and Grimr could consult the map again. The map had to be held level and the translucent keystone held so that one could look through the stone. Only by looking through the stone could one see the marking on the map that they hoped indicated the hidden door to the lost kingdom.

"Definitely south of that line of foothills," Nori said.

Grimr nodded. "That fits with my research as well."

"Well?" Thorin asked impatiently. "Can we stop wasting time and be on our way again?"

Nori eyed their "leader" as they started the ponies moving. Thorin had gone from being commanding and clearly in charge in Ered Luin to withdrawn and barely speaking on the road. Now, the closer they got to Dracadelf, the more impatient he became, chafing at any delay. It struck her as odd, but who knew. Maybe royalty was always like that.

Grimr smiled benignly when she mentioned it to him when they stopped for lunch. Thorin stood at the edge of the group with his back to them, staring intently to the southeast.

"He's probably eager to see the fruits of our journey," Grimr said. "The lost mithril mines of Hrathi Stonefist will make us all fabulously wealthy."

Nori looked at him skeptically. "I know you've got the whole story about needing funding to save Middle Earth or whatnot," she said, waving her hand. "But that's an obvious smokescreen."

"Is it?"

"There are easier ways to make money than traveling halfway across the world on the slim possibility that _maybe_ we might find the lost kingdom and _maybe_ the mithril mines are real. What's your real reason?" Nori asked.

Grimr sucked meditatively on his pipe, his eyes narrowed as he looked to the southeast. "Did you know that the only things that can kill an Elf are physical injuries or their own grief?" 

"I guess I never really thought about it," Nori said cautiously, trying to figure out where Grimr was going with this tangent.

"They don't age as Dwarves, Hobbits, or Men do. They are effectively immortal, but that is not always the blessing one might imagine it to be. If one were to be trapped, unable to escape--either in the traditional sense or through death--for thousands of years... what would that do to one's mind, I wonder?" Grimr mused.

"So, what, there's an Elf trapped in the lost kingdom?" Nori asked. "How do you know? And how do you know that this Elf wasn't killed by the dragon?"

"Oh, I don't know anything really. I infer, I deduce... I suspect a great many things." Grimr clapped his hands together briskly, saying, "And even if we don't rescue an immortal being from an existence of unimaginable torment, we shall still have found a lost kingdom and become ridiculously wealthy. There is no downside to this."

"As long as the lost kingdom really exists," Nori pointed out.

Grimr shrugged. "There is that," he agreed.

They skirted the line of the mountains for two days. Thorin's impatience at backtracking to the southwest was almost palpable, but there was no way to cut across the mountains safely. Nori thought that everyone heaved a sigh of relief when they rounded the foothills and could cut straight south across flat country to the mountain valley that they thought was the best option for the location of the hidden door. Another two days of travel and they reached the foot of the valley, making camp before ascending the valley into the foothills. 

Nori and Dwalin continued to share a bedroll, though they did not repeat the sex-talking for fear of being overheard in the relative quiet of the mountains.

It was strange, sharing a bedroll and spending so much time with one person. It had been like this with Sigrun on the ill-fated trip to the Grey Mountains, Nori remembered, shivering as she pushed that thought away. This journey would not end as that one had.

But it was nice, she had to admit, sleeping with one person, growing to know their rhythms and their foibles. Nori found herself smiling at odd points during the day and mentally scolded herself for being a sentimental fool. But then she'd catch Dwalin's eye and feel... happy, she supposed. She knew the exhilaration of a job well done, the satisfaction of revenge, the excitement of a new conquest. Happiness, though, wasn't a feeling she had much experience with.

Late in the afternoon of the fifth day as they rode up the valley into the foothills of a high peak, Nori spotted a glint of metal at the top of a slope of loose scree. She called a brief halt and dismounted. She was relieved to find, as she climbed up the slope, that she felt merely a dull ache from her mostly healed wound.

The glint of metal proved to be a square of silvery metal with a symbol on it that looked an awful lot like one on the keystone. Nori tried to pick up the piece of metal and discovered that it was attached to a hunk of badly corroded metal that might once have been a helm. She carried the whole thing with her down the slope, skidding a little on the loose rock.

"It's undoubtedly the sigil of Hrathi Stonefist," Balin said after examining it with his magnifying glass. "I'd say it's the helm-badge of a captain, based on the other symbols. And, of course, the fact that the badge is made of mithril."

Nori's eyes widened. Mahal's bleeding arse, if she'd realized that hunk of silvery metal was mithril she'd have pocketed the damn thing and just shown them the helm. She had never actually seen mithril in person before. That two-inch square of metal was probably the most expensive thing she'd ever held in her hands--and she'd missed the chance to steal it.

She committed to memory what mithril looked like, the particular sheen that distinguished it from silver or steel. After all, they might run into more remains and she had never promised to stop stealing from the dead. (And really, she had only promised to steal from rich people who deserved it. In her experience, that was most of them.)

They re-checked their location using the map and keystone.

"I think it's somewhere on that side," Nori said, gesturing to the steep, rocky slope on the southern side of the valley, lit sharply by the setting sun.

Everyone had to take a turn looking through the keystone, and though there was a spirited debate that seemed as if it would come to blows, Thorin quieted them with a shout of, "Atkât!"

The word echoed off the hillsides. The Company instantly stopped yelling and turned to face him as Thorin said, "We will begin searching the southern slope at first light tomorrow. Let's set up camp." 

Nori was amused by how everyone jumped to follow Thorin's orders. Kingdom or no, crown or no, most of the Company seemed to think of Thorin as a king already. Nori thought it was ridiculous, but then again she'd never been much for being ruled by anyone.

***

Ingrith lay very still in the shelter of a large boulder on a bluff overlooking the Dwarven camp. She had watched from a distance as they consulted the map and keystone. The resulting argument had been loud enough for her to hear that they were very sure that the door was in this valley somewhere. 

She watched as they set up camp and waited for them to settle down to sleep. Ingrith cursed to herself as she saw that the old man's pet thief was lying close to the campfire this night, curled up with the big guardsman. There was no way that she could sneak past two sentries to the heart of the camp and steal a keystone from a thief who was playing little spoon to a warrior's big spoon. Ingrith knew her limits.

She crawled silently back away from the bluff and over a small ridge to the sheltered spot she had chosen for her own tiny camp. She found the Raven roosting on the branch of a stunted pine tree, apparently asleep. "Raven," she said.

The Raven cocked its head at her without opening its eyes. "What, Dwarf?"

"I humbly request that you carry a message to my home once more," Ingrith said, bowing to it.

The bird opened its beady eyes and focused on her with first one and then the other. "You summon the mountain Dwarves to kill the other Dwarves?" it asked.

"If we have to." She was hoping it wouldn't, but she had to be prepared for the strong probability that the old man would refuse to listen to reason.

"Carry the message in the morning," the Raven said, settling its feathers.

Ingrith kept her voice level with an effort. "I need you to carry the message now. Please."

"You wanted messages carried by night, you should have talked to an Owl." It closed its eyes, apparently deciding that the conversation was over. 

No matter how Ingrith tried to appeal to it or bribe it with food, it refused. Even the offering of an entire herd of sheep wasn't enough to convince it to fly at night. It would fly at first light, and no earlier.

Ingrith finally had to admit defeat. Hopefully the message would get to the Thegn in time if she sent it at first light. For now, she needed to come up with a plan to stop the old man from opening the door on her own, without any back-up. 

Typical, really.

***

Dwalin woke slowly to the sound of the pre-dawn chorus of birds. The sky was still dark above them, but he could hear the faint sounds of stirring in the camp. 

Nori was awake already, he saw, facing him with her eyes open. She leaned in and they kissed good morning, a sweet, brief press of lips. As he drew back he saw that Nori was grinning, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What?" Dwalin asked.

"Big day today," she said. "I've never stolen a lost kingdom before. This is exciting."

"We're not stealing it," Dwalin said, trying to glower at her but failing. Looking more like a lovestruck idiot, if the amused look on Nori's face was any clue.

"Pfft. We're sneaking in by a hidden door and taking it for our own. If that's not stealing, I don't know what is." Her eyes went a little distant. "I could get free drinks at the Rusty Gate for months on this story."

Dwalin winced. "You drink at the Rusty Gate?" The tavern was a notorious gathering place of thieves, thugs, and even less savory types.

Nori snorted. "Thief," she said, pointing at herself. Laughing, she leaned in to kiss him again, and the two of them were only stopped from public indecency by Dori pointedly clearing her throat as she walked by. Twice.

After breakfast, the Company gathered in a huddle around the map and keystone to check the placement of the mark again. It seemed clearer, with better light, that the mark was on the southern wall of the valley.

Thorin crossed his arms, saying, "Mistress Nori, you stated that there was one final secret to the stone which you would share when we reached the mark. I think that now is the appropriate time."

Nori and Grimr exchanged a look. "Agreed," she said. 

Nori scuffed out a flat patch of earth and used a stick to write a symbol in the dirt. "There will probably be decoy symbols scattered around the slopes. This is the symbol you need to watch for. The keyhole will be within a couple of feet of it. You see, the keystone is also a key," she said, producing the keystone from inside her jerkin and holding it up before making it disappear again.

They spread out across the rocky slope on the southern side of the valley, which was punctuated with occasional sheer walls of rock. Nori scampered up the cliffs as if she were part mountain goat, shouting, "Nope, not this one." 

"Nope, not this one either." 

"Hey, this one looks like a cock." (That was Bofur.)

Dwalin had never really seen Nori's tendency to climb things in action before, and his heart was in his throat every time she climbed up a rock face as if it was nothing. She laughed at him for it, but he kept close enough to her that he hoped, if she slipped, that he would be able to catch her or at least break her fall. Just in case.

"I think I found it," Nori called out. She was at the top of a slope of loose scree, just under a rocky bluff. Dwalin was the only member of the Company anywhere near her. 

He hurried toward her and saw, as if in slow motion, a female Dwarf leap off of the bluff above Nori and tackle her to the ground. Nori threw her off and they exchanged a few lightning-fast blows as Dwalin ran toward them. The woman managed to get behind Nori and hold a knife to her throat. Both Nori and Dwalin froze in place.

"Stay back," the woman warned Dwalin. She had a livid scar running down one side of her face and her leather armor was dusty and well-worn. "I don't want to have to kill anyone, but I can't allow you to open this door."

Dwalin heard shouts from behind them as the rest of the Company noticed the confrontation. Fili and Kili had been closest to them. Fili held Kili back from rushing in.

Nori sneered, "You don't want to hurt anyone? So what was with paying the Mithril Hand to take us dead or alive?"

"They were a little too liberal in their interpretation of my instructions," the woman said. "Technically I told them to kill you only if they had no other choice. I apologize for the miscommunication."

"Oh, well, that's all right, since it was a miscommunication," Nori said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What do you want? Why are you doing this?"

Dwalin tried edging closer, but a sharp inhalation from Nori as a tiny trickle of blood slid down her neck made him stop. The woman could cut Nori's neck before he could get anywhere near them.

"Because if you open this door, you will doom us all," the woman said. "I don't know what the old man has told you, but it's all lies. What is trapped within this mountain cannot be freed without causing untold devastation."

"What's trapped inside the mountain?" Nori asked.

"A legend. A tragedy. A force of destruction more powerful than you can possibly--"

At that moment, Nori moved. She headbutted the woman with the crown of her head and then threw her whole body backward into her, knocking the woman back and bringing Nori's forearm up at the same time to block the woman's knife. 

The woman staggered, dazed, and in that moment, two things happened: Dwalin threw himself across the last few feet between him and Nori, and Nori spun around and slid the keystone into a hidden slot in the rocks.

The ground shuddered. Loose scree poured downward as a fissure opened in the rock. Dwalin was caught in a waterfall of loose rocks, sliding into the dark hole that appeared in the side of the mountain. He caught a glimpse of Nori falling with him down a long, deeply slanted passage.

Then the ground shuddered once more, there was a deafening noise of falling stone, and everything went dark.

***

Bell could fit into smaller spaces than the Dwarves, so she made herself useful by searching the cracks and crevices that the Dwarves couldn't fit into. She was done checking one such crevice and about to crawl out of it when she heard alarmed-sounding shouting outside.

She crawled to the edge of the crevice and peeked out. Ori was standing in front of the opening, facing away, and Bell couldn't see anything past her back. "What's going on?" Bell asked.

"Keep your voice down!" Ori hissed. "There's someone holding a knife to Nori's neck. I don't know what's going on. Just stay hidden until I tell you it's safe."

"I will, I promise," Bell said. Ori slid a hand behind her and wiggled her fingers. Bell slid her hand into Ori's, feeling reassured by the contact as Ori clutched at her hand.

"They're talking," Ori said quietly. "Dwalin's getting closer--Nori headbutted her--I don't--" Ori paused and then shrieked as there was a loud rumbling noise. "Nori!" she screamed, ripping her hand from Bell's as she ran toward the source of the noise.

Bell slid to the very edge of the crevice and craned her neck awkwardly. She found that she could just see the point everyone was running toward, where a small cliff appeared to have collapsed. There was a Dwarf woman she didn't recognize being restrained by Fili. The rest of the Dwarves appeared to be trying to excavate the collapsed cliff face with their bare hands. There was no sign of Nori or Dwalin.

Bell hesitated, trying to decide if she should remain hidden, as she had promised, or go try to help somehow since the danger appeared to be over. 

An arrow clattered off the cliff face near Fili and the unknown Dwarf woman. Bell turned her head sharply to see that a group of armored Dwarves had entered the valley and now stood ranged below the Company with bows drawn. Bell froze, hoping that no one had noticed her.

"That was a warning shot," one of the strange Dwarves shouted. "Drop your weapons or we will shoot."

Fili was holding a knife to the woman's throat. "Try it and we'll kill her," he said.

The same Dwarf who had spoken before shook his head, saying, "She is a soldier, willing as we all are to die in defense of our home. I will not say it again. Drop your weapons."

Thorin hesitated and looked at Grimr, who shook his head subtly. "Do as he says," Thorin ordered, drawing his sword and dropping it on the ground.

Fili reluctantly released the woman and the Company threw down their weapons. Even Ori threw down her slingshot angrily. Two of the soldiers collected their weapons as the rest kept their arrows trained on the Company. 

"Captain, I believe the Thegn will want to see them," the woman said to the Dwarf who appeared to be in charge.

"Correct. My instructions are to bring them to Dracahafen at once," the Captain said. 

_What's Dracahafen?_ Bell wondered. She was pretty sure the lost kingdom was called Dracadelf.

"No!" Kili shouted. "We can't leave her! We have to try to dig them out!"

"The old man's accomplice and another Dwarf were buried in the landslide when the door opened," the woman explained.

The Captain looked at the collapsed cliff face and shook his head. "If they are buried under that amount of rock then they are beyond our power to rescue. I am truly sorry for your loss."

"No! No!" Kili shouted as they were marched back down the valley by the soldiers. Fili and Thorin had to physically restrain him from attacking the soldiers with his bare hands.

Ori glanced once at Bell's hiding place as they passed by, then looked straight ahead again.

Bell's heart was racing, her hands shaking as she pressed them to her mouth and tried to think what she should do now. What could she do? 

She had to do something. She was the only member of the Company who hadn't been captured, other than Nori and Dwalin who might be dead for all she knew. But what could one Hobbit do against a group of Dwarven soldiers?

Bell took a deep breath and made herself calm down. The first order of business was to follow them without being noticed. Dwarves were loud and tended to be somewhat oblivious to their surroundings, and Hobbits were extremely good at going unnoticed. Bell slid out of the crevice and dropped a few feet to the ground, crouching to avoid being spotted. 

She would follow the Dwarves until they reached their destination and then... well, hopefully at that point something would occur to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atkât = silence.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Company becomes "honored guests."

Fili held onto Kili's arm with Thorin on the other side, physically holding Kili back from attacking the soldiers. Kili struggled against them, shouting, "No! We have to go back! We have to dig them out!"

Fili's eyes met Thorin's. He could tell that they were both thinking how slim the chances were that Nori and Dwalin had survived the rockslide. They'd had a few minutes to dig before the soldiers appeared. If either Nori or Dwalin had been near the surface of the rockslide, they would have found one or both of them.

When they reached the mouth of the valley, Kili slumped in Fili and Thorin's arms, seeming to lose the will to fight any longer. His eyes were red with tears and he didn't respond to any questions, mechanically walking wherever he was steered.

Kili not saying anything or reacting to anything around him was just _wrong_. Fili looked back to Dis, who was walking behind them, and widened his eyes in a silent plea for help.

"I'll take him," Dis said quietly. Fili nodded and stepped back so that she could wrap her arm around Kili and help keep him moving while murmuring in his ear.

For the first time since they had started marching, Fili could look around and assess the situation. The strange Dwarves surrounded them, riding on ponies and leading the Company's ponies on leads behind them. Their hands had been left unbound, not that it mattered because they were unarmed and on foot, while their captors were riding with bows in easy reach. Anyone who tried bolting would be shot in the back before they could reach cover.

Nori's sisters walked near the back of the group. Ori seemed strangely calm. Perhaps she hadn't fully grasped yet that Nori and Dwalin were most likely dead, buried under thousands of pounds of rock. Dori had the look of someone who was too grief stricken to weep. Fili looked away quickly, feeling like he was intruding, as Grimr put his arm around Dori.

Balin walked beside Fili, his face a careful blank. Fili thought what it would be like to lose Kili as Balin had just lost Dwalin, and had to swallow against the urge to be sick.

The woman who had started all this by tackling Nori and holding a knife to her throat was riding near Fili. There was a raven, of all things, perched on the pommel of her saddle. After a few minutes, she looked over at Fili as if she could feel the glare that he was aiming at her.

"I am sorry for your loss," she said, putting her right hand above her heart and bowing her head briefly. 

"So you had _nothing_ to do with the rockslide?" Fili asked suspiciously.

"Of course not," she said. "The hidden door hadn't been opened in over two thousand years. We lost all record of its location hundreds of years ago. The mountain must have shifted over time so that opening the door released some hidden flaw in the rock."

"Don't pretend that you're sad that the door is buried and can probably never be re-opened," Fili said.

"I won't," she said calmly. "But I do regret that it took the lives of two of your companions."

"This would never have happened if you hadn't interfered," Fili snarled, aware as he spoke that it was likely not true. Even without the woman's interference, there was a good chance that Nori would have opened the door without checking to see if it was safe.

"I interfered in order to prevent far more grievous losses," she said. "Opening that door could have led to death and devastation greater than you can imagine."

"What could possibly be that dangerous?" Fili said mockingly.

She flushed angrily and snapped, "There is a dragon trapped within that mountain. Is that dangerous enough for you?"

"The dragon can't possibly still be inside the mountain," Fili scoffed. "It's been what, over two thousand years? Even a dragon can't live that long without food."

She clamped her mouth shut and looked straight ahead.

"Wait," Fili said, feeling a sudden, terrible suspicion. "Your people have been _feeding_ the dragon? Why would you do such a Mahal-damned stupid thing?"

"Do not insult that which you do not understand," she snapped at him, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Oh, I understand it," Fili said. "I understand that you're all lunatics."

"You only display your own ignorance by insulting our sacred responsibility." Shaking her head in disgust, she ordered one of the other soldiers to take her place and cantered to the front of the line.

"Well done laddie, getting that information," Balin said. He looked old and tired as he added, "Though I don't know how glad I am to know that if my brother did manage to survive the rockslide, he's trapped down there with a dragon."

***

"Nori's not dead, is she?" Ori asked.

The question came without warning after almost an hour of walking. Ori had been so remarkably calm about Nori's loss that Dori had thought her little sister hadn't fully understood the magnitude of the rockslide that had buried the secret door.

Dori couldn't say anything, the words caught in her throat. She didn't know what to say. Should she lie to soften the blow or tell her sister the truth?

Ori was more than smart enough to know what Dori's silence meant. "She _can't_ be dead," Ori said flatly. Turning to Grimr, she asked, "You would know, wouldn't you, Master Grimr? If she was actually dead?"

"I can't say, little jewel," he said gently.

"I'm sure she's fine," Dori said at last with what she feared was a terrible attempt at a smile. "You know Nori. Nothing can keep her down for long."

"You're right. Nori's fine," Ori said, sounding as if she were trying to convince herself. "Of course she is."

For the first time, Dori noticed that someone was missing from the group. Where was Ori's little friend, the Hobbit? The two of them had been inseparable ever since they'd encountered her in the Shire. Ori hadn't seemed worried until she'd asked about Nori, which led Dori to suspect that Ori already knew where Bell was. Perhaps she'd hidden when the soldiers had come. 

That left Bell all alone on the mountain, facing who knew what dangers armed with just a slingshot. Dori fretted, wondering if she should say something. Would the Hobbit be better off being captured by the soldiers or wandering the mountains alone?

She supposed it really depended on what the soldiers intended to do with them.

Another two hours of walking brought them to the top of a narrow mountain valley. The passageway narrowed so that only two ponies or a pony and a Dwarf could walk side-by side. The passage wound around a few hard turns before suddenly widening out. They stood on a small plateau from which they could see a high mountain valley stretching out below them.

Dori caught her breath at the first sight of the valley. Massive buildings stood at the far end of the valley. They were carved stone buildings in classic Dwarven style, which looked strange to her standing under the open sky rather than inside an immense cavern like those of Ered Luin or Erebor. The trail led down a steep slope to the floor of the valley then ran, Dwarven-straight, to the foot of the largest building. 

It seemed impossible that a Dwarven settlement of this size could have remained hidden for so long.

A small river ran the length of the valley, originating in a waterfall near the city and then disappearing underground near the entrance to the vale. As they descended the slope, she saw that much of the valley was covered in green grass, with herds of fluffy sheep drifting across the landscape. Dori stared, astonished, at the sight of a Dwarf lad herding cattle across the road with the help of a small white and grey dog. 

Dwarves were not _farmers_. Hunters, yes, and foragers when they had to be, but never did they raise herd animals. It was bizarre.

The woman who had held a knife to Dori's sister's throat conversed for a few minutes with the soldier who appeared to be in charge of the group. They seemed to come to an agreement and one of the soldiers spurred his pony into a canter, riding ahead down the road.

Almost an hour of walking brought them into the strange Dwarven city. One thing struck Dori as she looked around: as large and grand as the city looked, its streets were strangely empty. Oh, the city was inhabited, surely enough, but it looked like a ghost town compared to the bustling crowds of Ered Luin or long-lost Erebor.

The soldiers escorted them to the largest building, the seat of government Dori would guess. Leaving the horses with young Dwarves dressed in brightly colored uniforms, the soldiers led the Company into what looked like a throne room. It was a large room with pale grey stone walls rising to a vaulted ceiling. Colorful murals covered much of the wall space. They depicted scenes both familiar from Dwarven history and bizarrely unfamiliar, with dragons as a recurring motif.

A group of richly dressed Dwarves, perhaps a council of some kind, stood in a semicircle below a raised dais. On the dais, a sour-looking Dwarf with many rings on his fingers sat on a small throne. 

"Council members. My Thegn," the scarred woman said, going to one knee in front of the dais. "We have brought the old man and his accomplices."

Dori glanced at Grimr, guessing that he was the old man she spoke of. Grimr watched the scene on the dais serenely.

"Rise, Dame Ingrith. We are pleased that you have not failed us again," the Thegn said. 

With a look of carefully controlled displeasure on her face, Ingrith rose to her feet and returned to stand by the Company.

The Thegn stood and walked to the edge of his dais, striking a pose that he no doubt thought was commanding but actually, Dori thought, made him look like a rooster with its chest puffed up. "So," he said, pausing dramatically. "Grimr Honey-Tongued, Grimr the Trickster. Why have you come to our doorstep?"

Grimr stepped forward, smiling. His voice echoing throughout the throne room, Grimr asked, "Why have I come? Why, how could I not, when I realized that Hrathi Stonefist had been reborn?"

The Thegn froze for a moment as the crowd began murmuring. "What is this nonsense?" he demanded, his voice squeaky with rage. "Has your reason finally failed you, old man?"

"No indeed," Grimr said calmly. "For do I not bring to your city he who is the very image of your long-lost king?" He pointed at Lord Thorin, who suddenly appeared to be outlined in a glowing mist.

"Behold, I have brought you Hrathi Stonefist reborn!" Grimr boomed in a voice like thunder.

The room erupted into chaos. The council members shouted at each other, pointing from Lord Thorin to the mural on the wall behind the throne. The mural depicted a man who did bear a striking resemblance to Lord Thorin, Dori had to admit, standing before a golden dragon with wings mantled.

The Thegn shouted for order, but no one listened. Mutters of confusion broke into a gathering chant of, "King Hrathi! King Hrathi!"

In the midst of the chaos, Lord Thorin stared up in complete bewilderment at the mural.

***

Dis looked between her brother and the man in the mural, comparing them. Same beaky Durin nose, same shape to the eyes and mouth... if she hadn't known better, she would have thought the mural to actually be a portrait of Thorin. 

It didn't make sense, though. Yes, Durin the Deathless had been reborn several times within the line of Durin, but the father of their line was the only Dwarf who had ever been reincarnated. Was Hrathi Stonefist even related to the line of Durin? She would have to ask Balin later. 

"Order! Order!" one of the council members shouted, banging his staff on the ground until the roar of the crowd died down enough that it could be spoken over.

The Thegn looked like he had swallowed a very large bug. Dis took some malicious enjoyment in his obvious displeasure. "My people," he said. "We must not fall victim to the tricks of Grimr Honey-Tongued, father of lies."

Father of lies? Apparently these Dwarves were already familiar with the wizard.

"Then how do you explain the resemblance?" someone shouted from the crowd.

The Thegn was turning purple with rage. "We shall adjourn until the truth of the matter can be determined. The lore must be consulted and the portents must be read. Until then, they will stay as honored guests in the palace."

Dis exchanged a look with Balin. Honored guests, really? Dis would wager that "honored guests" actually meant prisoners. Not that anyone in the Company would be foolish enough to take that bet.

The Thegn spoke briefly with the woman he'd referred to as Dame Ingrith and the leader of the soldiers. They left the dais together, the soldier appearing neutral while the woman, if Dis was reading her correctly, was still angry at the Thegn. That was a possible angle of opportunity. Fili had gotten information out of Ingrith earlier. Dis would have to encourage him to get her talking again.

Dis looked proudly at her sons, standing flanking Thorin as they waited, looking like fierce young warriors. Even Kili only had a slight tinge of redness to his eyes, despite his distress over Nori's disappearance. Her sweet, melancholy boy. Fili took after his father: practical and realistic, despite his streak of mischief. Kili, on the other hand, had inherited the Durin temperament: passionate to a fault. It made the line of Durin great kings and leaders, but difficult at times to live with.

Flanked by the soldiers, the Company was led from the throne room down a long corridor, then up a few flights of stairs. Their prison must be located on a higher level of the palace, rather than the dungeon she had unconsciously been expecting. Everything about these Dwarves was slightly off, from their cattle and sheep-herding to the fact that their city appeared to be built entirely above ground.

Their prison wasn't what she had been expecting either. They were led to what seemed to be an entirely separate wing of the palace, with individual rooms surrounding a pleasant courtyard. The only real sign that it was a prison was that the gate at the entrance locked behind them. Oh, and the two armed guards posted outside of the gate, of course.

Ingrith spoke to them through the metal bars of the gate. "Food and drink will be brought to you. I hope you will understand that we cannot yet return to you your gear, but it will be taken care of. Please let the guards know if you need anything."

"How about our freedom?" Fili asked. "Could I get that from the guards?"

She sighed and said evenly, "I apologize, but the Thegn's decision is that you will remain as honored guests until the truth of the matter can be determined."

"Honored guests?" Fili asked. "Guests can leave."

Clearly trying to hold onto her temper, Ingrith said, "Let the guards know if you need anything that is within their power to give." With that, the scarred woman turned and walked off, not quite stomping but certainly walking very firmly.

Dis raised her eyebrows. Apparently she wasn't going to need to tell Fili to try to get Ingrith talking.

The Company gathered in the octagonal courtyard, where cushioned benches sat scattered around a pleasant fountain. A skylight pierced the vaulted ceiling, far too high above them to offer any chance of escape. Another touch of strangeness: there were flowering plants growing in large earthenware pots placed throughout the courtyard. Dwarves did not grow plants unless they were medicinal in nature, and even then they were more likely to gather them wild. 

These surface-dwelling Dwarves were damned unsettling, in Dis's opinion. She thought back to the scene in the throne room and realized for the first time that everyone there had been speaking in Westron, even though they were in a Dwarven palace with no outsiders around. How bizarre.

They settled down in family groups, as they tended to do when making camp. Kili leaned heavily against Dis's shoulder. She put her arm around him, stroking his hair gently and pressing her cheek to the crown of his head. 

Thorin hadn't spoken a word since the revelation that he was possibly Hrathi Stonefist reborn. Dis frowned at him, worried. She would have to try to talk to him later, alone.

"Master Wizard," Balin said formally to Grimr. "Do you have any way to know if we are eavesdropped on?"

"I do not," Grimr said. 

Dis sighed, disappointed. What good was this bloody wizard? 

"But I can make it impossible to eavesdrop on us." Grimr crossed to the fountain at the center of the courtyard, placed his hands over the water, and closed his eyes. The sound of the fountain became overwhelmingly loud, thundering in their ears, and then went entirely silent. He stepped back, smiling. "Anyone trying to listen in on this courtyard will hear only the fountain."

Quiet murmurs went around the group at this display of power.

"Young Ori," Grimr said, turning and bowing to the girl. "You asked me a question earlier which I could not answer because our conversation was being listened to. But now I can tell you that yes, your sister Nori still lives."

There was a general outcry of joy. Ori and Dori clung to each other, Ori crying openly while Dori blinked suspiciously damp eyes. Kili sobbed once, the tension draining out of his body until Dis's arms seemed to be the only thing holding him upright. 

In the midst of the celebration came a quiet question. "And my brother?" Balin asked. 

"Nori and I have a connection. I cannot feel Dwalin's life force the same way," Grimr said, shaking his head. "I don't know if your brother lives. I am truly sorry."

Balin nodded, his face stoic but his eyes full of old pain. 

***

 _She's alive, Nori is alive_. The words hummed joyfully through Kili's system, replacing the grim desolation he'd felt ever since they'd been forced to abandon the attempt to rescue Nori and Dwalin.

"I don't want you to get your hopes up too much," Dis said, pressing her cheek to the top of his head. "Even if Nori and Dwalin are alive, they may not be able to get themselves out from under the rockslide."

"If Nori is alive, she'll get out somehow," Kili said with absolute assurance. Nori could escape from anything.

"Do you truly love her?" his mother asked. The other members of the Company had drifted away, clumped in family groups throughout the courtyard. No one was close enough to overhear them as long as they spoke quietly.

Kili gave the question serious thought. How did he feel about Nori now, after everything? Feeling his way slowly, he said, "I do still love her. But I think... I've finally accepted that we're not ever going to be together. I watch Nori and Dwalin together and I can see that he really loves her and that she..." He had to pause, clearing his throat. "She loves him too." Kili blinked furiously.

Dis rubbed her cheek against his hair. "Oh, little jewel. I'm sorry."

"But part of me does still love her, even though I know it'll never be," Kili whispered. "Isn't that foolish?"

He could hear the fond smile in his mother's voice as she said, "It's not foolish, Kili. I'm just glad to know your heart is whole." She hugged him, her reassuring scent and the soft feeling of her arms surrounding him. Kili didn't care that he was almost a man grown--he hugged her tightly, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

They stayed that way for several minutes until Kili let go, surreptitiously wiping at his eyes. "Love you, Mam."

"I love you too. So much, jewel of my heart." She pressed her forehead against his for a long moment, then let go. "I need to talk to Uncle Thorin now," she said gently.

"All right," Kili said, smiling at her. 

Standing, he looked for Fili and found that he was sitting on a bench nearby, watching the two of them. Fili's eyes were wet too, but they both manfully ignored their tears.

"Give me a few minutes," Kili said as he stopped by Fili, punching him in the shoulder.

Fili nodded. "Don't take too long navel-gazing or I'll come find you, broody."

Kili snorted. "All right. Mother hen," he added, ducking out of the way as Fili swatted at him.

They hadn't really explored their prison yet, beyond checking the first few bedrooms and finding that they held comfortable feather-stuffed pallets. Kili set out down one of the corridors that radiated from the octagonal courtyard like spokes in a wheel.

He found that there was a corridor that ran around the outside of that wing of the palace, with barred windows overlooking the valley. It was a pretty view, though he'd prefer seeing it through a window that didn't have bars on it.

The corridor was quiet and smelled faintly of dust. Kili walked along it, idly watching the vista outside the windows. High, snow-peaked mountains surrounded the valley. It really was a beautiful place. Too bad it was inhabited by crazy Dwarves who thought that Uncle Thorin was some reincarnated ancient Dwarven king or something.

On the opposite side from the entrance to the wing, someone had dragged a stone bench into the corridor. That "someone" was sitting on the bench, staring at him with wide greenish eyes.

"You're an Elf," Kili said stupidly. 

She was obviously an elf, with pointed ears, a delicate, narrow frame, and long auburn hair, wearing a flowing green outfit in the Elven style. She was sitting on the bench reading, with her legs crossed in a complicated way that looked like it should be extremely painful.

"You're a Dwarf," she mimicked, eyebrows raised in mockery as she looked at him over the top of her book. 

"What is an Elf doing here?" Kili gestured at the prison around them.

"Much the same as you, I would imagine," she said, lowering her book. "Playing the part of "honored guest" of the Thegn."

"The Thegn imprisoned you?"

"Is this going to be a conversation where you just repeat everything I've said and add a question mark? Because if so, I have a book I'd rather be reading. I've only read this one a dozen times," she said, gesturing with the book in her hand.

Kili made a face at her question mark comment but let it slide. Looking at the large pile of books on the floor next to her bench, he asked, "You've read all of those?"

"Yes. There isn't really all that much else to do here, you'll find," she said, shutting her book and laying it on the bench beside her. "I am considering taking up landscape painting as long as they'd be willing to give me the materials. They probably will. You'll find our captors are very accommodating about everything... with the notable exception of letting you go."

"How long have you been here?" Kili asked. Hah, that wasn't just adding a question mark to something she'd already said.

"Seven months, two weeks, and four days. I won't tell you the hours and minutes unless you're really curious," she said with a hint of a teasing smile in her voice.

"Why did the Thegn imprison you?"

"Again, I would guess that it was for much the same reason why he imprisoned you." Flowing gracefully to her feet, she added, "I got curious about the dragon."

"That is why we're here!" Kili said. "Well, really I think we were looking for a lost kingdom. But apparently there's a dragon in it."

She smiled, which made her look a lot less stuck-up and elf...ish. She was pretty when she smiled. "That is what they say," she agreed.

"Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Kili. At your service," he said, bowing.

She said something in the Elf language. "A friend well met is a friend well made, I think is the closest Westron translation. I am Tauriel, of Mirkwood," she said with a graceful bow.

"Mirkwood?" Kili asked. "That's a fair distance. What are you doing here in the White Mountains?"

"That, friend Kili, is a long story," she said. "How fortunate it is that we have nothing but time."

***

This was never going to work, Bell thought, uncomfortably adjusting the uniform she'd stolen from the palace laundry. This was a stupid plan. She didn't look anything like a Dwarf, even if she was wearing boots (so uncomfortable!) and had braided her curly hair Dwarven-style to hide her pointed ears. The first person who saw her was going to know she didn't belong in the palace.

She must be near the kitchen, she realized, the smell of food making her stomach growl audibly. She hadn't eaten since breakfast and by the time that she'd followed the Company to the palace, it had been late afternoon already.

"You there. Page!" someone shouted down the corridor.

Bell squeaked with terror and spun around. An older Dwarf dressed in a uniform that looked much fancier than hers was looking at her impatiently. "...Yes?" Bell asked.

"Bring this tray to Dame Ingrith's room," the Dwarf ordered, holding out a covered tray. 

"Yes... milord?" Bell said, taking the tray from him.

Bell must have looked as wide-eyed and terrified as she felt, because the Dwarf sighed and said, not unkindly, "You must be new. I swear the new pages get younger and smaller every year. Sir is fine, young one. I'm a steward, not a lord." 

"Yes, sir," Bell said, curtseying.

"Look at your uniform," he tutted, straightening the shoulders of her tunic. "It'll have to do for today but have Mistress Bothild give you a smaller size tonight. Tell her the Steward sent you. Helgi!" he shouted. Bell jumped at the sudden change in volume.

A young Dwarf boy dressed in the same uniform as Bell poked his head around the doorway behind the steward. "Yes, sir?"

"She's new," the steward said, gesturing at Bell. "Take her around and show her the ropes. And take this tray to Dame Ingrith while you're at it."

The page bobbed his head. "Yes, sir." As the steward walked away, the young Dwarf turned to her with a friendly smile. "I'm Helgi."

"Bell," she said, unable to think up a good Dwarven name on short notice. Hopefully her nickname sounded Dwarvish enough.

"Wow, you're tiny. What are you, forty?" Helgi asked as he took the tray from her. Without waiting for a response, he said, "So, the first thing you need to know is where the servants' staircases are."

Bell trailed along behind Helgi as he continued rambling on. She couldn't quite believe it, but it looked like her stupid plan was actually going to work.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the lost kingdom of Dracadelf is explored and a strange discovery is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for depiction of a panic attack. (I don't think it's particularly intense, but I thought it was best to give warning nevertheless.)

Wherever she was, it was dark. So dark that even Dwarven dark vision couldn't pierce it.

Nori tried to rub her eyes and realized that she couldn't move her arm. In growing panic, she realized that she couldn't move _at all_. She was pinned in place, completely surrounded by rubble.

Her breath came in quick, shallow pants, her eyes straining for any sign of light in the impenetrable darkness. It felt like there was a band tightening mercilessly around her ribs. She started to feel light-headed, her pulse throbbing in her ears.

_Trapped. She was trapped._

Her thoughts ran in circles, unable to complete any thought before flitting to the next. The door--she had opened the secret door--then a deafening rumble--a rockslide--she was buried alive--where was Dwalin? Was he dead? Why wasn't she dead, crushed under the rocks?

She grasped desperately at that thought. She wasn't dead, she wasn't crushed, so maybe there wasn't as much rock on top of her as there seemed. (She violently shoved away the thought that she might simply be lying sheltered by a large chunk of debris beneath tons of rock, because that way lay mindless panic.)

She shifted each of her extremities and realized that the weight on top of her left side felt less heavy. Slowly, carefully, she started inching to the left, feeling encouraged when her reaching fingertips felt open air.

She had no idea how long it took to crawl out of the rubble, but after what could have been minutes or hours she crawled free. Crouched on hands and knees in the stifling darkness, she coughed painfully, spitting gluey dust out of her lungs.

"Dwalin," she rasped. "Dwalin!" No response came from the darkness.

Her hands were shaking. Nori pressed them to her thighs, taking a few deep breaths that were meant to be calming but just started her hacking painfully again.

Nori had been born after the fall of Erebor, while the refugees were still wandering under the open air trying to find a place to settle. So she didn't have much stone-sense, not like Bofur who could feel how far underground a stone foundation went or Lady Dis who could tell how long ago a stone had been quarried. She couldn't touch the rubble and feel where the rocks were displaced by Dwalin's unconscious ( _not dead, not dead_ ) body. For the first time in her life, Nori found herself bitterly regretting that she wasn't stone-born.

She didn't have much stone-sense, no, but she had her brain, she just had to use it. Nori concentrated on breathing steadily until the urge to panic passed and she could think clearly again.

First of all, she needed light. She checked her belt pouches, relieved to feel that they had survived the rockslide intact. By feel, she found the emergency matches (not as sturdy as flint and steel, but faster) and candles that she habitually carried with her. She had found in her line of work that being prepared for an emergency often made the difference between being a successful thief or a dead one.

Lighting a candle, she sheltered the flame with her hand and looked around.

She was in a tunnel, she found, cut into the rock of the mountain. The tunnel stretched off into the darkness in one direction and in the other direction was completely blocked by debris and fallen rock. She scanned the debris desperately, searching for some sign of Dwalin.

There! A glint of metal. Nori scrambled to where she had seen the reflection of candlelight on steel. One of Dwalin's axes was sticking out between two rocks.

Nori wedged the candle upright to give her some light to work with and started pulling rock and debris off of Dwalin. He was lying on his side facing away from her and didn't react to her calling his name. Nori cleared away rock from his head and neck first, nearly sobbing when she placed her hand to his neck and felt his steady pulse. _He's alive, Dwalin is alive_.

Still unconscious, which was worrying, but _alive_.

She cleared away as much rubble as she could and--with some difficulty--pulled Dwalin out. "Fuck, you're heavy. Might want to lay off on the bacon," she told him, hoping that he'd wake up just to be annoyed with her. 

Kneeling next to Dwalin and checking him for injuries, she couldn't find anything obvious other than a sizeable knot on his temple. He must have been knocked out by a falling rock. He didn't respond at all to her repeatedly calling his name.

Nori sat back on her heels, thinking about her options. Dwalin was probably close to twice her weight. The fact that he was the biggest Dwarf she'd ever seen was damned sexy in bed, but not so great when she was facing the need to move his unconscious body over an unknown distance. 

"Shit," she hissed, staring down the dark tunnel. She couldn't leave Dwalin here in order to check ahead in case the rocks shifted again and reburied him. Speaking of which, she should really move them both further away from the rockslide, just in case. "Dwalin. Come on, wake up, you lazy badger." There was no response. 

"Right." There was really only one way she could see to move him. Getting him up over her shoulders would be impossible considering their size difference. She was going to have to drag him. "Good thing your weapons harness makes for a convenient hand-hold, yeah?" There was no response. 

Nori found herself narrating her actions out loud just so that the silence would not seem so echoingly empty. "I'm going to have to take your axes off of your harness. This won't work otherwise. I might have to leave them here. Hey, you hear that, Dwalin? I'm going to leave your axes behind." She sighed. "I can't believe you named your axes. Fine, fine, I'm going to clip them to your belt, see? Can't leave them behind, it'd be like abandoning your pets. Right, let's see if this works... ugh, by Mahal's pendulous balls, you weigh a _ton_."

"All right, stay here for a moment, I'm going to have to grab the candle... shit. I can't carry a lit candle if I'm carrying you. It would be really fantastic if you woke up now, Dwalin. Please?" There was no response. Nori looked at the lit candle in her hand and then looked down at Dwalin. Reluctantly, she snuffed the candle out and put it back in her belt pouch. The darkness was like a physical force, surrounding her and pressing in on her from all sides. 

"Did I ever tell you that I really hate both enclosed spaces _and_ not being able to see? No? Well, I'm telling you right now. This is completely fucking horrible and if I end up walking into a bottomless pit because I can't see a damned thing, I'm blaming you. So you'd better wake up now. Now would be good, Dwalin." The way her voice broke on the last sentence would have embarrassed her if anyone else had heard it, but she'd gladly take the embarrassment if it meant not being completely alone in the dark.

By the time she'd gone fifty feet down the tunnel, she had to stop talking so that she could save her breath for dragging Dwalin. His weapons harness did make for a convenient handhold but she was still dragging someone almost twice her weight. At least the tunnel had a smooth, level floor, evidence of good Dwarven craftsmanship.

There was no sense of time in the eternal dark. She had no idea how long she had dragged Dwalin's unconscious body when she felt herself bump into a wall, the first change in the seemingly endless, straight tunnel.

Nori lowered Dwalin's shoulders to the ground and leaned over with her hands braced on her knees for a few minutes before she could muster up the energy to investigate the wall. It felt blank and featureless at first, blocking off the tunnel completely. A dead end.

Nori felt the panic creeping up on her again and reminded herself forcibly that it was a _secret_ tunnel, after all, and no doubt it ended in a hidden door. She just had to find it. (And hope that it opened from this side, that it wasn't locked, that it still opened after two millennia... the possibility that it wouldn't open was too horrible to contemplate for more than a moment.)

Her searching fingertips found an oblong opening in the rock, just large enough to fit her fingers. She reached inside and felt around blindly until she found what felt like a lever. "I really hope this doesn't cause another rockslide," she told Dwalin. The sound of her own voice was almost shocking after so long in silence.

She pulled the lever and heard a clicking noise, then the scraping sound of rock moving over rock. She felt a breeze coming from her right and reached out her hand, feeling open air where there had been nothing but a stone wall. The door had opened!

Nori fumbled the candle and matches out of her belt pouch. As she lit the match, it seemed like hundreds of fireflies suddenly glowed to life inside the room beyond the secret door. Nori was so distracted by the sight that she nearly let the match burn down to her fingertips before cursing and hurriedly lighting the candle.

The "fireflies" turned out to be reflective specks of gemstones in the stone walls of the room. Standing in the doorway, Nori looked around what seemed to be a meeting room of some kind. There was a long stone table in the center of the room. The walls were cunningly carved in Dwarven designs in such a way that the gems naturally occuring within the rock caught and reflected the light.

"You should see this. It's beautiful," she told Dwalin. "You should wake up before I figure out how to steal the walls of this place." He remained as stubbornly unconscious as he'd been since the rockslide.

Not trusting the secret door not to close on them, she managed to pull Dwalin into the room while keeping a foot jammed in the doorway. Once he was in the room, she spotted a small side table made of stone and dragged it over to make sure the secret door remained propped open. 

Not that there was any way out that way, but just in case the rest of the Company managed to dig through the rockslide to the tunnel. It was probably too much to hope that the scarred woman had been crushed to death in the rockslide. But even if she had managed to avoid getting caught in it, Nori was sure the Company would have made quick work of the woman once she no longer had a hostage to threaten.

Nori planted the candle on the table, held upright with its own melted wax. She only had two more candles in her belt pouch, but she had been without light for so long that she couldn't bear to think of snuffing the candle out to conserve it yet.

Sitting down at Dwalin's head, she maneuvered him so that his head was resting comfortably on her crossed legs. Giving Dwalin water was tricky, but she found that he would swallow if she carefully poured a tiny amount in his mouth at a time. She gave him a little water, not too much, and then took a couple of mouthfuls herself. It was warm and stale but tasted absolutely delicious. She forced herself to cap the waterskin and not drink as much as she wanted. She had to conserve their water until she either found a source of fresh water or a way out, and she only had one container of water with her.

Dwalin shifted slightly and moaned. Nori froze for a moment and then cradled his head in her hands, saying his name repeatedly.

Dwalin groaned. "Mmm, I'm awake," he said in a slightly slurred voice. "My turn on watch already?"

Nori laughed, tears sliding down her cheeks as she bowed her head over him. "Oh thank Mahal, you're awake. I love you, Dwalin."

"Am I dying?" Dwalin sounded alarmed.

"No, no, why would you say that?" Nori asked, scrubbing the tears off her face with her forearm.

"I must be dying. You said you loved me." He seemed bewildered and more than a little fuzzy-headed.

"Damn it, no, you're not dying. Stop saying that." Nori leaned over and kissed him upside-down. They both laughed a little as they bumped noses and chins at first. She pulled away after a few awkward but sweet kisses, closing her eyes as Dwalin reached up and caressed the side of her face. 

"I love you too, Nori," he said. She turned her head and kissed his palm.

"I thought you were going to die," Nori said, her voice rough and low. "I thought you wouldn't wake up, that you'd just... stop breathing and I wouldn't even know until the next time I stopped for a rest. That I'd touch your skin again and you'd be cold and still as the stone."

"Oh, lass," he said, cupping his hand around her cheek. "Come here."

She carefully rearranged herself so that she was lying pressed to his side, her head tucked on top of his shoulder. The fur that lay across his shoulders tickled her nose a little, but she just rubbed her face against him until the tickling feeling went away. He put the arm that she was using as a pillow around her shoulders, his other hand lying on his chest. She laced her fingers with his and they rested there quietly for a few minutes. 

"Where are we?" Dwalin finally asked.

"Dracadelf," Nori said. There was a large, ornate stone door in the middle of the wall opposite the secret door. She supposed after they were done snuggling they might explore the city. 

She felt a quiver of excitement at the idea. An ancient Dwarven city that no one else had explored! It was like Durin's Day, all for her. For now, though, that feeling was eclipsed by the sheer relief and contentment that she felt lying there feeling Dwalin's chest steadily rise and fall beneath her hand.

"What happened?" Dwalin asked, freeing his hand from hers in order to poke carefully at the large lump on his temple. "My head's killing me."

"I don't know," Nori admitted. "I opened the door and the whole bluff seemed to come down on top of us. We were fucking lucky that we weren't crushed or completely buried in rubble. We fell into a tunnel and I managed to drag you down the tunnel until we reached this room."

"We found the secret door?" Dwalin asked blankly.

A few minutes of questioning revealed that Dwalin had lost all memory of anything that had happened since waking up that morning. Nori filled him in on the chain of events.

"So this same woman has been chasing us since Ered Luin?" Dwalin asked. "Why?"

"Not sure. She said something about releasing some terrible danger if we opened the secret door. Sounded like a fanatic to me," Nori said.

Dwalin drummed his fingers on his chest. "Yeah, but if she was right, then we're trapped down here with it."

"What could possibly be that terrible?" Nori asked. "The dragon has to be dead by now. Even a dragon can't go almost an Age without food."

"I guess we'll find out. We can't stay here forever."

Nori rubbed her cheek against the fur again. "I suppose not," she said, dreading the thought of getting up again. 

"You're like a cat," he said. "With the cheek-rubbing thing."

"Well," she said, leaning up on her elbow, "I may be _like_ a cat but you're _actually_ a badger." She snickered at his half-hearted grumpy scowl. 

Sobering, she leaned down and very carefully rested her forehead against the uninjured side of his forehead. "Don't scare me like that again," she whispered.

"I'll try not to, lass." They stayed like that for a few more minutes, breathing together, and then Nori stood up. 

"We'd best get moving," she said. "The candle's burning down and I only have two more."

Dwalin needed a hand getting up. Once he was on his feet he swayed a bit, looking pale. "Are you all right?" Nori asked.

"Been better. But I can walk," he said. "Just... maybe not all that quickly."

They collected the candle and paused at the doorway, exchanging a look. Nori took a deep breath and opened the door, hoping for anything but rubble.

The view outside the door was a welcome surprise: a wide hallway in classical Dwarven style, with carved pillars supporting the high ceiling. Wherever their candlelight hit, the reflected glow from gems in the rock made it seem brighter than it really was. The hallway didn't show any signs of damage. 

"Probably a part of the city that the dragon didn't bother to touch," Dwalin said. Nori glanced at him, reminded again that Dwalin was actually old enough to remember the fall of Erebor.

"I think we should go right," Nori said. When he looked at her questioningly she shrugged. Fifty-fifty chance, and one direction looked identical to the other. Might as well make a decision and see where it got them, rather than dithering.

Dwalin was walking a little slower than normal. He didn't look like he was actually about to fall over, though, so Nori spared his manly pride and didn't ask him if he wanted to stop. The hallway led straight for about one hundred yards and then ended in an archway into a much larger space. The archway bore the first obvious signs of damage they'd seen. A chunk of stone had been broken from the side of the archway and now lay where it had crashed to the floor.

Dwalin looked grim. "There'll be more damage beyond here," he said. "That's just incidental damage. Its wing accidentally clipping the wall, that sort of thing."

Nori leaned against the wall and uncapped the waterskin, taking a swallow before offering it to Dwalin. "Drink," she said when it looked like he would refuse. "I know you're tough as old hobnailed boots, but you need water just as much as I do."

Dwalin took a drink and they rested for a few minutes and then started walking again, passing through the archway into a vast cavern.

It must have been a grand market, Nori thought, looking at what remained of it. The buildings were mostly one or two stories, with wide doorways for displaying wares at the front of the buildings. She thought that the open spaces between them might have been for non-permanent vendor stalls, long since crumbled to dust. What remained were only stone walls, with great chunks broken off here and there. As if a dragon's tail had swished back and forth as it walked through, Nori thought, her eyes automatically going to Dwalin.

It was at that point the candle, which had already been threatening to burn out for half an hour, finally guttered out. Nori sighed and reached for her belt pouch, then paused, mouth dropping open.

Far above them pale blue lights flickered into life on the ceiling of the immense cavern. Some were burnt out, others dim, but enough of the strange lights remained that Nori could see that the ancient Dwarves had created a copy of the night sky inside the mountain. 

She stared up at the ceiling, finding familiar constellations in the starscape. "Dwalin," she said. "Do you see what's in the center?"

"Aye," he said grimly. "The Great Dragon."

Indeed, the Great Dragon was at the very center of the starscape, picked out clearly with blue lights about twice as bright as the others. "Strange," Nori said with a shiver. "That a city later destroyed by one should have a dragon at the center of its grand ceiling."

Dwalin deliberately looked away from it. "Let's keep moving."

The glowing stones on the ceiling lit the ruined city with an eerie, blue-toned twilight. They walked down the street they had entered from which ran from the archway toward the center of the great market. All around them were silent buildings, some in such perfect shape that she half-expected a merchant to suddenly appear at the front entrance, shilling his goods.

"Dwalin," she murmured, casually edging closer to him. "Did you notice that there are no remains?"

"Aye." He was also speaking very quietly. "Skeletons might have crumbled to dust by now, but there should be pieces of armor. Weapons. Metal belts. Something."

As they grew closer to the center of the cavern the damage grew markedly worse. They began to see scorch-marks on the stone, evidence of dragon-fire.

At the center of the cavern was a large octagonal plaza. A huge fountain stood in the center of the plaza, with wide steps leading down to it which were of a suitable size for lounging. The fountain was still intact, despite standing in the way of the worst swath of destruction, which they could now see ran straight from one end of the cavern to the other. And most astonishingly of all, the water was still _running_.

Nori was too well-trained a thief to whoop out loud, but she did instinctively make the thieves' cant Iglishmiek sign for a big score. She noticed Dwalin giving her the disapproving side-eye for that, but didn't pay him any heed. There was _water_.

Nori examined the water in the fountain before drinking it. It was clear, free-flowing, and smelled like nothing other than water. On that thought, Nori turned to Dwalin and asked, "How does it smell?" 

He crossed his arms and stared at her stubbornly. 

She rolled her eyes. "Listen, either you have magic badger powers or you just have an extremely sensitive nose. Either way, I would like you to use your nose to tell me if this water is safe before I drink it, because I'd prefer not to die of drinking tainted water."

"Not a damn badger. I just have a good sense of smell," he muttered, but obligingly leaned over to take a thorough sniff just above the surface of the water. "It's clean water. Smells slightly of minerals, but nothing dangerous."

"Thank you," she told him, and did not call him "badger" even though it was very tempting. She should save it for later, anyway, when he wouldn't be expecting it as much.

They drank their fill and refilled the waterskin, then took the opportunity to assess their supplies. They were in much better shape now that they didn't have to worry about running out of water, but between the two of them they only had enough dried meat and hard cakes of Dwarven waybread, _cram_ , to keep them fed for four or five days. Maybe a week if they stretched it.

"Which way now?" Dwalin asked, gesturing to the trail of dragon-destroyed buildings that stretched off into the distance. It was impossible to see far enough in the faint glow of the ceiling constellations to tell which way the front gates might have been.

"That way," Nori decided, choosing randomly again. They gathered their supplies together and set out for that end of the cavern.

Following the trail of destruction, Nori noticed even more how strange the remains of the market seemed. The largest chunks of stone lay where they had fallen, but there were no chunks of debris lying around that were much smaller than a small boulder. "It's as if someone went through and cleaned everything up," she said in an undertone.

Dwalin nodded. His hands flexed on the handles of Grasper and Keeper, which he had casually begun carrying unsheathed after they left the fountain.

Nori made sure that her long daggers were easily unsheathed, sliding smoothly out of their scabbards. She pulled the shorter knives out of the crossed sheaths at the small of her back, flipped them, and sheathed them again. A showy little move, but one that had intimidated more than one small-time thug. 

The effect on Dwalin was not even remotely that of intimidation. She knew what those dark eyes and that particular set to his mouth meant. Nori sent him a crooked, sidelong smile, her smile widening to show teeth when he rumbled in his chest in response. Sadly, now was so very much not the time.

They came to another great archway, this one with the sigil of Hrathi Stonefist set over it. Seeing the sigil on such a large scale, Nori noticed for the first time that the stylized lines could be seen as a dragon standing with wings mantled behind the figure of a man. Exchanging an uneasy look, Nori and Dwalin continued through the archway, which had great chunks torn out of it and scorch marks on either side.

The damage to the walls continued down the length of a corridor of huge proportions, easily fifty or sixty feet to the ceiling and correspondingly wide. The ghostly blue glow of the gemstones paced them, the lights growing brighter as they approached and dimming as soon as they passed. It was damned eerie, she thought. The professional part of Nori's brain, though, was already busy trying to figure out what the lights were reacting to. Did the magic just notice movement, or body heat, or...? It would make it difficult to sneak into places if the lights turned on as soon as you entered.

Giant metal doors, intricately carved, hung drunkenly from their hinges at the end of the corridor, as if shoved aside by whatever creature was large enough to require a corridor of such massive size.

"Do you think...?" Dwalin asked in an undertone.

"That they were keeping a dragon as a Mahal-damned _pet_? Yes!" Nori hissed.

"Of course it turned on them in the end," Dwalin said, shaking his head. "The fools."

"I guess Grimr was right when he said that the dragon loved Hrathi Stonefist. Or at least served him." Nori had honestly not believed that part of the story until that moment. "It has to be dead by now, though," she murmured, trying to reassure herself.

Dwalin didn't say anything. 

Past the broken doors they found another vast cavern, stretching to dizzying distances both above and below them. The floor of the cavern was actually so far away that the blue glow of the ceiling lights didn't even reach it. The lights in here were again in the shape of familiar constellations, with the Great Dragon at the center. 

A bridge stretched across the chasm, wide enough for ten Dwarves to walk across shoulder-to-shoulder. There were lights on the bridge as well, Nori saw, helpfully marking the edges of the bridge which of course had no guard rail.

There appeared to be a platform at the end of the bridge, so far away that it was impossible to make out any details. Nori exchanged a look with Dwalin and without a word they began to walk across the bridge. 

As they neared the platform at the end of the bridge she saw that it had been a throne room. Two thrones sat on a raised dais against the far wall. The thrones were intricately carved out of the gem-bearing rock and glittered in the eerie light of the blue stones. 

She saw something that at first seemed to be a pile of rags lying on one of the thrones. As they drew closer she saw a spill of white-blond hair and realized that a figure was lying curled up on the seat of the throne. A mummified corpse? It was unexpectedly horrific after the complete lack of Dwarven remains in the ruined market.

The corpse stirred. Nori had her long daggers in either hand before she could blink. "Barrow-wight," she hissed. It was a wonder the city wasn't crawling with them.

Then the figure sat up, revealing that it was no corpse or barrow-wight. It was an Elf.

The Elf had long blond hair and icy blue eyes. He looked young, but all Elves did, no matter how ridiculously old they were. She supposed he might have even been considered attractive if it had not been for the disdainful sneer on his narrow face. 

"Who do you think you are, to bare arms in the presence of the Prince Consort?" he demanded in a resonant voice. "Guards! Arrest these two intruders." 

Nori reflexively looked behind them for the guards before realizing that they would never appear because they were dust these two millennia past. 

This must be the Elf Grimr had spoken of, the one who was trapped in the city. Nori sheathed her daggers and gave him Dori's most respectful bow. "I do apologize for the misunderstanding, Prince Consort. We were only startled, since we thought the room to be empty."

"I suppose the error could be forgiven just this once," the Elf said with an air of great magnanimity. He was wearing robes woven of what appeared to be undyed wool, carefully sewn together but growing tattered at the cuffs and hem. Nori had never before seen an Elf who was anything less than immaculately dressed. 

"Pardon the impertinence, your highness," she said. "But might I ask which ruler you are Consort to?"

"King Hrathi Stonefist of Dracadelf, of course. Are you an idiot as well as rude?" he asked, looking down his long nose at her.

"Ah, of course, how foolish of me," she said. "May I ask where His Majesty is?"

The Elf waved a hand dismissively. "He's gone on a hunting trip to the surface. He'll be back soon."

Nori made a show of nodding thoughtfully before asking, "And may I ask where everyone else is? Your city appears to be completely empty of inhabitants."

The Elf paused, appearing unsure for the first time. "They must be... They've gone to the surface. There is a festival in the valley today, of course," he said, seeming to have shaken off his uncertainty.

Right. Nori exchanged a look with Dwalin, knowing that they were both thinking the same thing. Consort to Hrathi Stonefist or not, after two millennia alone down here the Elf was crazier than a box full of weasels.

***

Far above them, Thorin Oakenshield started awake from a dream. He had been a King, but not of Erebor, and by his side had ruled a Prince Consort, but not one of Dwarven birth. 

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Thorin tried to figure out why he had dreamed of being married to an Elf, of all the ridiculous things.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the plot continues to thicken.

Bell froze in terror the moment she saw the woman to whom they were to take the dinner tray. Dame Ingrith was the Dwarf woman with the scarred face who'd held a knife to Nori's throat. She was sitting at a small table in a suite of rooms with the leader of the soldiers who had taken Ori and the rest of the Company away.

Fortunately, Helgi had the tray and could put it down respectfully on the table, because Bell could not move.

The woman appeared to notice Bell's terror and mistake it for mere nervousness. She smiled at Bell and asked, sounding a little amused but not unkind, "Are you new here, child?"

"This is Bell's first day," Helgi answered for her. "The Steward asked me to show her the ropes." He sounded very proud of this fact.

"Come here, child," Ingrith said. "How old are you?"

Regaining control of her limbs, Bell curtseyed respectfully. She remembered Helgi's guess at her age and answered, "Forty, mistress."

Ingrith shook her head. "So young! You're an orphan, then?"

"Yes, mistress. My parents were killed by wolves," Bell said, anticipating the next question and answering it truthfully. The less lies she had to remember, the better.

"I think you mean Wargs, child," Ingrith said gently. "The Orcs ride on Wargs. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Bell said. If she hadn't known that the woman had threatened Ori's sister, she would have thought Ingrith kind. She supposed even bad people could be nice occasionally.

"You may go," the soldier said dismissively. 

As Bell and Helgi walked down the short hallway to the exterior door of the suite, Bell heard the woman say, "Another war orphan. I cannot believe we lost the southern settlement--" Her voice was cut off by the door closing behind them.

"You're a war orphan?" Helgi looked sympathetic, but also like it was the most exciting thing he'd heard all day. "I heard there were hundreds of Orcs riding Wargs and they burnt the settlement to the ground. That must have been awful."

"It was. I don't like to think about it," Bell said quickly to stave off any more questions. "Helgi, the Steward told me to run to the laundry to get a uniform that fits better. I'll meet you down in the kitchens later."

"All right," Helgi said. "But don't be too late. I heard that we're going to take dinner up to the Dwarves the soldiers brought in. One of them is supposed to be King Hrathi reborn! I heard the head cook and the Steward talking about it."

"I will definitely not miss that," Bell assured him, smiling. The smile dropped as she watched Helgi trot down the hallway and disappear around the corner. They must have been talking about Ori and the rest of the Company! Bell could not be late for that. She would have to eavesdrop on Dame Ingrith and the soldier just briefly.

Bell opened the door to the suite, careful not to make a sound, and crept down the short corridor until she could hear them talking.

Dame Ingrith was saying, "--have things deteriorated so in just ten years? What have you been doing here?"

"You weren't here, sister. You don't know what it's been like," the soldier said. "He was still listening to reason when you left. He was a weak man and a coward, but he was at least trying. Now he's--" the soldier's voice cut off.

"Now he's what?" she asked.

Bell had to strain her ears to pick up what the soldier said next. "Gold-mad."

Ingrith hissed in a breath. "You know saying that is treason."

"I would rather be executed for telling the truth than live to see Dracahafen fall, our sacred responsibility abandoned, for one man's love of gold," he said. Bell heard a sharp bang, as if from a hand hitting a table.

"That it should come to this," Ingrith said.

There was silence for a few moments. Bell wondered if she should try moving closer, but she was terrified that they'd notice her.

"What of this so-called reincarnation of Hrathi Stonefist?" the soldier asked. "What trick is the charlatan trying to pull?"

"I am not entirely sure it is a trick," she said slowly.

"You can't trust Grimr Honey-Tongued. He's a liar and a thief."

"Who knows that better than I, brother?" Ingrith asked. 

There was a short pause. The soldier coughed uncomfortably. 

Ingrith sighed. "What makes him the most dangerous is that he doesn't _always_ lie. Sometimes he tells the truth, and those are the times when he's most dangerous."

Then they started talking about things Bell didn't understand--something about the Council and war with the Orcs. Bell silently sneaked back out of the suite and started running as soon as she reached the hallway. She didn't want to miss her chance to see Ori.

***

In the courtyard, Dis threw up her hands in exasperation and stalked away from Thorin after he refused to talk to her about what was troubling him. He barely responded to her questions, and when he did respond his answers were short and vague. 

Dis had just started to talk to Balin about the current situation when her younger son reappeared with an Elf in tow. 

Kili was fairly bouncing in excitement, reminding Dis of a much younger Dwarfling bringing home a bullfrog. Dis would prefer the frog, honestly, but she had been trained in diplomacy from an early age and so none of that showed in the perfectly neutral smile she gave the Elf.

Since Thorin still gave no sign of being interested in reacting to anything around him, it fell to Dis to perform his diplomatic duties. "Greetings, milady Elf. I am Dis, daughter of Thrain, and this is Thorin, son of Thrain. I see you have already met my son Kili."

"Well met, Dis, daughter of Thrain," the Elf said, inclining her head. "I am Tauriel of Mirkwood."

"You are far from your home," Dis said. "What brings an Elf of Mirkwood to the White Mountains?"

"Our queen, Merillael, seeks knowledge of those lands that lie around our ancient forest. We had heard rumor of a hidden Dwarven city south of the Fords of Isen and I was sent to determine the truth of it."

There was more to that story, Dis was willing to wager. "How came you to enjoy the hospitality of our host?"

The Elf's smile was as perfect and meaningless as that of the rest of her folk. "I understand from your son that we have something in common. We have both been imprisoned for becoming overly inquisitive about the dragon."

"What do you know of the dragon?" Dis asked. She was well aware that it should be Thorin's place to ask such questions, but he continued to sit in brooding silence, like a lump on a log and about as useful.

"I know that it is the same dragon that destroyed the lost kingdom of the Dwarves in ancient days." The Elf paused dramatically and then added, "And I know that our hosts have been feeding it."

"You can't be serious," Dis said blankly.

Fili spoke up. "Dame Ingrith as much as admitted it."

"Why would anyone do that?" Kili demanded. 

"They should have let it starve," Balin said in a voice bitter with old hatred. The rest of the Company muttered in agreement.

"They would not tell me," Tauriel said. "I can only guess it is some superstition having to do with the fall of Dracadelf. The Dwarves of this city, of Dracahafen, call themselves its guardians."

"Interesting," Dis mused. "Tell me, how long have you been a prisoner here?"

"Seven and a half months." The Elf smiled, but it was not a happy smile. "Perhaps you will have more luck with our hosts."

Dis exchanged a look with Balin. Seven and a half months? If Nori and Dwalin were still alive, they definitely did not have that much time to spare. "I will see what we can do," Dis said.

Their hosts sent in food then, carried in by a number of young pages under the watchful eye of a few soldiers. Dis felt deeply insulted that they would imagine her people so honorless that they would threaten or harm children.

One child in particular caught her eye, for it was no Dwarven child at all, but the Hobbit, Bell. Dis carefully did not look at her after the initial moment of recognition. What good the Hobbit could do was yet to be determined, but having an ally outside their prison was more hope than they'd had before.

She was worried at first that the girl Ori would ruin the ruse with how happy she looked. Ori however was canny enough to pretend that she was merely pleased about the dinner they had been brought.

Indeed, it was a fine meal, plainly prepared but delicious. All of the meat was of the highest quality, and not fish, deer, or rabbit, which Dis was thoroughly sick of by this point in their journey. Perhaps there were certain advantages to farming, though she still thought it highly improper for Dwarves to employ themselves so.

The dishes were collected by the pages after they ate a mostly silent dinner, unable to ignore the presence of the guards--or of the Elf, for that matter--long enough to relax and truly enjoy themselves.

Dis did not notice Bell among the pages as they left and was unsurprised that as soon as they were alone Bell reappeared from wherever she had hidden. She threw herself tearfully into Ori's arms.

_Ah, so the wind blows that way_ , Dis thought, and wondered if Dori had yet noticed that Ori and Bell's connection was more than just that of close friends.

"I shall return to my quarters," the Elf said. "They are on the far side by the outside corridor, should you have need of me." 

Dis resisted the urge to rub her hands across her face in exasperation as she saw that her younger son was watching the Elf leave with puppy-dog eyes. Apparently Kili had a type, and that type was skinny and red-headed. Dis really wasn't sure, though, that an Elven royal emissary was any improvement over a Dwarven thief.

Bell explained that she had managed to sneak her way into the palace and disguise herself as a palace page. "No one really looks at servants," she said. "It's as good as being invisible." She had taken dinner to Dame Ingrith and overheard some useful information, which she relayed to them. 

"If these Dwarves are truly losing so much territory to the Orcs, you would expect them to welcome contact with the Elves of Mirkwood, not to imprison their emissary," Balin said. "Something else is going on here. I have the feeling that most of the Thegn's people bear him little love."

"Agreed. Good work," Dis told Bell. "Keep your eyes and ears open and report to us what you find out. But be careful," she said sternly. She would not easily forgive herself for getting a child harmed on her orders, even a non-Dwarven child.

"I will be." Bell responded to Dis's words, but the Hobbit's eyes and words were for Ori only. "I will sneak out when the pages bring your breakfast."

"Won't anyone miss you?" Ori asked.

Bell shook her head. "I have the servant who is mentoring me convinced that I have a sweetheart in the guard. He'll cover for me if anyone notices that I've been gone all night."

"It's been a long day. I think we should all get some rest now," Dis suggested, though she was aware that her tone made it more of an order than a suggestion. 

As the group dispersed, scattering to the bedrooms to sleep, Dis caught the wizard's eye. "Master Grimr. Could you speak a moment?"

"Go on," Grimr told Dori. "I'll be there soon."

Dori looked worried, but departed without saying anything.

"Yes, Lady Dis?" the wizard asked once they were alone.

"The Thegn recognized you," Dis said bluntly. "He called you a liar and said that you couldn't be trusted. Why is that?"

Grimr shrugged casually. "I suppose that I rub some people the wrong way."

"Don't speak idle nonsense," Dis said. "The Thegn recognized you. You have been here before. For what purpose?"

His eyes sharpened then, his posture subtly shifting from the slight stoop of a scholarly Dwarf past the prime of his life to that of a warrior, shoulders back and stance perfectly balanced. "Do not presume to question me, Dis, daughter of Thrain," he said in a voice like quiet thunder. "What I do, I do for the well-being of all good people of Middle Earth."

Dis stood her ground, her chin raised in defiance. "I _will_ question you when it affects the safety of my people," she said evenly. "You may be tasked with protecting all of Middle Earth, but the well-being of the scattered people of Erebor is the sacred trust of the line of Durin. We will all of us lay down our lives to protect them."

Grimr nodded. "You do your lineage honor, Lady Dis. Very well," he said, sitting down on one of the benches. "It is a long story. To tell it briefly, I found mention of the story of Hrathi Stonefist and his Elven Consort in the crumbling fragment of an ancient book. I spent decades searching for further information and finally found the location of the lost city."

"You came here then, to Dracahafen," Dis said.

"Indeed. I was given a position of great trust by the Thegn and then I utterly betrayed that trust. I stole the keystone, a relic held most holy by the Dwarves of this city." Grimr spread his hands out and shrugged. "All things considered, I really can't blame them for mistrusting me."

"You betrayed your honor," Dis said, her lip curling in disgust.

Grimr shook his head. "I betrayed their trust. The purpose that I honor is, and always has been, to protect Middle Earth to the best of my ability. Everything else is secondary to that."

"I understand," Dis said. She understood, all right; she understood that before her stood the most dangerous person she'd ever met.

"If that is all, then I will wish you a good night," Grimr said.

Dis nodded and absently wished him good night. She had much to ponder on.

***

"You're going to leave a mark," Bell whispered, squirming away from Ori.

Ori framed the pink mark on Bell's neck with her fingers. "Not quite," she said. "Come back here and let me work on it more."

"Ori!" Bell squeaked, sounding scandalized and slapping a hand over the mark.

"You told your friend that you have a sweetheart in the guard, right?" Ori asked. "Won't he be less suspicious if he sees that you have a kiss-bruise on your neck?"

Bell looked at her skeptically. "Are you jealous of my imaginary guard lover?"

"No! Well, yes, maybe a little," Ori said, biting her lip and looking up at Bell through her eyelashes.

"Fine," Bell sighed. "But you're the one who gets to explain this if your sister notices."

Ori grinned.

***

Kili spread his arms and legs out like a starfish, enjoying the luxury of having a real bed. The mattress dipped as Fili sat down on the edge of the bed.

"An Elf, brother? Really?" Fili asked.

Kili frowned up at him. "An Elf what?"

"You're sweet on the Elf."

What was Fili talking about? Kili rolled his eyes, saying,"No, I'm not."

"You were looking at her like you look at Nori. All puppy-dog eyes and drooling," Fili said, grinning. He thought he was so hilarious.

Kili tackled Fili off the bed, trying to scrub his knuckles across his brother's scalp. "You take that back!"

Laughing, Fili held him off without much effort. "I'd say make me, but I'd hate to set you up for failure," Fili said.

Giving up on getting the best of his brother, Kili sat on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed. "I'm not sweet on her, I just think she's pretty."

"Uh-huh. Brother, you have a type," Fili said, seating himself opposite of Kili, leaning against the other bed. "Bony and red-headed."

Kili kicked his brother's foot. "Nori and Tauriel aren't bony. Besides, Tauriel is an Elf. They all look like that."

"Like the Valar stretched them out too far and they've been stretched thin?" Fili asked.

"No," Kili huffed, irritated. "Anyway, it's not like that. It's just that Tauriel is pretty and she doesn't mind talking to me. Not everyone can be the type of Dwarf that dozens of women fight over."

Fili smirked. "It was just the once, and there were only four of them," he said with completely false modesty.

"Whatever," Kili said, kicking Fili's foot again.

"I just want you to be happy," Fili said, serious for once. "And little brother, if it turns out that an Elf is what it takes for you to be happy, then I'll be right there with you eating leaves and pretending to like their boring music."

"It's not like that," Kili grumbled. "I'm not so faithless that I've already forgotten about Nori."

Fili muttered something that sounded like, "Would that you were." 

Kili frowned at him but decided it wasn't worth tackling him over. For one thing, Fili would just beat him again and make it look like it wasn't even an effort. Stupid older brothers.

***

Thorin dreamed that he sat enthroned in a throne room he did not recognize. There was a second throne at the periphery of his vision, but he could not see who sat beside him. He seemed unable to affect anything about this dream, for he could not look around him or move as he wished, but only followed along with the actions of the person whose body he inhabited. 

"What say the Chieftains?" Thorin asked. It was the strangest sensation, for while he could feel himself say the words, he could not control it.

A warrior bowed before him. "Your Majesty, they say that they will not swear allegiance to Dracadelf." The warrior wore armor of an ancient style, with a sigil on his helmet identical to the one Nori had found on the corroded ancient helmet.

"They will not swear allegiance to their rightful king?" Thorin felt himself stand and stride angrily past the warrior to stare broodingly down into the chasm that lay below the platform of his throne room. Far below, he could just see the sparkle of light reflected from gems and gold. 

His throne room sat above his treasure room? How odd.

"My lord, they say they will not," the warrior said. 

"They will regret that decision when we send dragonfire raining down from the sky," Thorin said. As he heard himself speak the words, horror suffused his being and he struggled and failed to break free from the dream. How could he--whoever he really was--speak of using a dragon as casually as if he were discussing any other weapon?

"You have served us well," he told the warrior. "You may go and take your leisure."

Thorin crossed his arms and stared down at the treasures below him. It was hard to judge from this distance with any great accuracy, but he would bet that the treasure accumulated below him would compare favorably with that of his grandfather Thror.

"My husband," he heard a rich, resonant male voice say from behind him. "Surely we do not need to send the wrath of the dragon against such paltry targets. The Chieftains of the Enedwaith would barely present a challenge to our Dwarven forces."

Thorin shook his head and turned to face the speaker, an Elf with long blond hair and cool blue eyes. He wore a mithril crown in a style that seemed caught halfway between Dwarven and Elven designs, and flowing golden robes edged delicately with embroidery in angular Dwarven designs. And he had referred to Thorin as his husband.

An Elf. Why for the love of Mahal was he dreaming about being married to an _Elf?_

As Thorin was still mentally reeling over this revelation, he heard himself say, "They need to understand that they cannot defy me without paying the price. We must make an example of them."

"Must we?" the Elf demanded. "Must we truly? Is it your kingly wisdom or your love of gold which tells you so?"

Thorin advanced furiously on the Elf. "Have a care, my love. Those words would be treason spoken on any other lips."

The Elf sneered down at him, drawing himself taller to make the most of the foot of height difference. "I will speak truth whether it be treason or no. My husband, you know how greatly I love you. But even so, I will not let you use the dragon's power so profligately."

Thorin could feel an ugly sneer on his face as he growled up at him, "How fortunate, then, that I do not require your permission."

"You wouldn't," the Elf said, but there was a thread of uncertainty in his voice.

"Would I not?" Thorin asked, his voice soft with menace.

And then the dream changed. He stood in the same place, but the brilliantly torchlit throne room was now only lit dimly by faint blue lights. The Elf stood in the same place, but his hair was longer now, flowing limply down to his hips. His fine attire had been replaced by ragged robes and his face was gaunt and hungry-looking.

The Elf was staring at him, eyes narrowed with bitter anger. "You're late," he hissed, an echo of the first time Thorin had dreamed of him.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Thorin tried to say within the dream, but he only managed to wake himself up right before the fireball hit him again.

Sitting up in bed and scrubbing his hands over his face, Thorin tried to figure out why he had dreamed about being married to an Elf, of all the ridiculous things.

He could tell that he wasn't going to fall asleep again any time soon. Thorin collected his pipe and pipeweed and wandered out to the courtyard, hoping to find someone to distract him from his thoughts. He found Balin sitting by the fountain smoking and joined him wordlessly.

"Evening," Balin said.

Thorin nodded but did not speak. The dream still loomed forebodingly in his mind.

Balin seemed content to smoke with him in silence. Thorin had always appreciated that about his old friend and advisor. A person you could be comfortably silent with was a precious thing indeed.

After a long silence, Thorin finally said, "I have been having dreams." Balin gave him a quick, sharp glance but did not speak. 

Thorin took a few more draws on his pipe before continuing, "In these dreams I am King, but not of Erebor. I rule a great kingdom under a mountain I have never seen, but it seems intimately familiar. There is a Consort ruling by my side." Thorin decided not to mention that his Consort was an Elf.

"Do you think that the kingdom you dream of is Dracadelf?" Balin asked.

"I fear that it is."

Balin frowned. "Why do you say you fear it?"

"Because if I am dreaming of Dracadelf, if what I am seeing are the memories of Hrathi Stonefist, then I fear that it is as the wizard said." 

Thorin took a deep breath and said, "I am Hrathi Stonefist reborn." He could feel a terrible doom falling into place as he said the words.

"Would that truly be such a terrible thing?" Balin asked.

Thorin did not answer the question directly. "Do you remember what it was like, when my grandfather became gold-mad?"

Balin chewed on the stem of his pipe contemplatively. "I was too young to sit on your grandfather's Council, but I remember that there was a point in time when my father began to look exhausted and sad after Council meetings. He would never speak against King Thror, of course. My father would have considered that to be a breach of honor."

Thorin nodded. He remembered Fundin, though he had never known him well, since Balin and Dwalin's father had been of an age with Thorin's father. It did not surprise him that Fundin would not speak ill of Thror no matter how bad the gold madness had become.

"Our mother, though... she had no such compunctions. She was a woman that you crossed only at your peril," Balin said, smiling in fond memory. "I remember her arguing with my father after the Council meetings, telling him that he had to speak for our people, that it was a breach of honor not to step in when our people were suffering from Thror's excessive taxation." 

Thorin remembered the sadness and frustration he had felt then at his inability to break through to his grandfather. The responsibility of the King was to protect the people, not to enrich your coffers at their expense. He felt the shame of those days settle on his shoulders again.

"I remember one argument in particular," Balin said. "My mother said something so odd. I could never quite understand what she meant, but she said that Thror smelled of sickness. That she could smell the gold madness on him. My father--and this was the strangest thing--he didn't argue that she couldn't smell sickness at all, he argued that she couldn't smell sickness of the mind. I still remember it to this very day because it struck me as being so very peculiar. Ah well, it was probably nothing," Balin chuckled.

Balin sighed and grew sober once more, looking at Thorin with his wise, sad eyes. "Is there a reason why you ask?"

Thorin hesitated, reluctant to admit this to anyone. Sternly, he reminded himself that he trusted Balin just as he did Dis and Dwalin. If he could not talk to one of his closest friends and advisors about what troubled him, who could he talk to? "The King whose life I remember living. Hrathi Stonefist. He suffered from gold-madness."

Balin took a long breath and let it out slowly. "I see. And you are sure that you were Hrathi Stonefist in a past life?"

"As sure as I can be of anything," Thorin sighed.

"Oh, laddie," Balin said, clasping his hand on Thorin's shoulder.

Thorin watched the fountain in silence for a few minutes before he found the strength to ask, "Do you think that Dwalin still lives?"

"Yes, I do," Balin said. "I cannot say that I understand Dwalin's love for the thief. But I have watched the two of them together and I see how Nori looks at him. She may be a thief, but she truly loves my brother. I have no doubt that if Nori still lives, there is a good chance that Dwalin still lives." Balin sighed. "If that is all I have to pin my hopes on, then so be it. It is still better than nothing at all."

Thorin nodded. "Then our course is clear. I need to enter Dracadelf."

"Are you sure? I want to believe that Dwalin is alive as much as anyone, but entering that city may be a death sentence, if the locals are right about the dragon still being alive."

"It is the only way," Thorin said. "First thing tomorrow morning, we start working on the Thegn, convincing him that I need to enter Dracadelf."

"But how will you manage to get out again?" Balin asked. "Do you remember a way out?"

"Hrathi Stonefist knew a number of ways out," Thorin answered. He figured that it must be true, even if he personally could not remember any of them. 

Balin tried to convince him that it was a mad idea. But something inside of Thorin was absolutely sure that if he just went down to Dracadelf, everything would work out.

He heard the echo of the Elf's voice in his head. _You're late._

_I'm on my way,_ Thorin thought.

Hopefully the reality would be unlike his dream, and he wouldn't get a fireball to the chest for his trouble.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dwalin smells dragon, Kili charms an Elf, a Raven brings news, and Dis would really like to punch her brother. Oh, and Dwalin finally uses his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on the timeline and wibbly-wobbly canon: Foxes and Geese is set in 2917 T.A., 24 years prior to the canon date of the Quest for Erebor. There are certain things which have occurred differently in this universe, due in large part to a split in the timeline that happened right around the end of the Second Age. You'll start to see more of those changes mentioned in this chapter.

Dwalin kept his mouth shut as Nori talked to the Elf. He'd never been fond of Elves to begin with. After the way the Elvenqueen had betrayed the Dwarves of Erebor by not helping them against Smaug, he disliked them all on general principle.

He had a hard time keeping a blank face at the Elf's claim that he was Hrathi Stonefist's Consort. If that was true, Hrathi must have been from one of those strange Eastern tribes, perhaps a Blacklock or a Stiffbeard. No King of Durin's line would ever take an Elf for a Consort, that was for damned sure.

As Nori questioned the Elf further, it became apparent that the Elf had no concept of how much time had passed since Hrathi Stonefist's rule, or of the fact that the city was empty. Dwalin exchanged an alarmed look with Nori. If the Elf had truly stepped over into madness, he could be unpredictable at best, dangerous at worst.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Consort," Nori said. "I am Nori, daughter of Kori, at your service." She elbowed Dwalin in the side when he failed to say anything.

"Dwalin, son of Fundin, at your service," he said with a bow.

"Thranduil, Prince Consort to King Hrathi Stonefist, accepts your service gladly," the Elf said, inclining his head.

"I do have one more question, Prince Consort," Nori said. "We were warned that there might be a dragon around here. It seems silly to ask, but... is there any truth to that rumor?"

"Of course there is," the Elf laughed. "The dragon is resting on his hoard. Where else would he be?"

Suddenly alert, Dwalin put his hands on the handles of his axes where he had hung them clipped to his belt. 

"Really," Nori said. Her voice was impressively steady. "And where is the dragon and his hoard located? We wouldn't want to disturb him accidentally."

Thranduil sighed as if Nori was being deliberately stupid. "Down there, of course," he said, gesturing to the shadowy chasm that lay below the level of the bridge and throne room.

Nori and Dwalin both took a step away from the chasm at the same time. "Does it smell like dragon in here?" she asked under her breath.

Dwalin took a deep breath, testing the air. He wasn't certain what dragon would smell like. He hadn't been paying attention to what Smaug smelled like, just trying to kill the damn thing and then get out of Erebor alive. However, he would guess that the combination of reptile, smoke, and burnt metal that he was smelling was it. "Yes," he said.

Nori gave him a sidelong glance with suddenly wide eyes. Swallowing hard, she turned back to the Elf. "Is the dragon asleep, your highness?" Her voice still sounded perfectly calm. Dwalin had the random thought that Nori would be very dangerous to play cards with.

The Elf shrugged. "I do not keep track of such things."

"All right," she breathed. "It's been a really long day. We should leave now so that we can go get some rest. It was interesting to meet you, your highness."

"Very well," Thranduil said, flicking a hand. "You may go."

Nori took a couple of steps toward the bridge across the chasm, Dwalin following her. 

"Wait!"

Nori turned around. "Yes?" she asked. Dwalin could see the lines of tension around her eyes.

"You are not... entirely tiresome. I would not mind speaking with you again," the Elf said, as if bestowing a great honor on them.

Nori smiled. "I would enjoy that. We're going to be staying near the fountain, should you wish to speak with us," Nori said. "We'll try not to trouble you in your throne room again."

"Very well." The Elf sat down on one of the thrones and looked away from them.

The walk across the bridge seemed to take forever. Dwalin was aware with every step that they were walking above a sleeping dragon, and that it might wake at any second. He didn't breathe easily until they reached the far side of the throne room. Even then, the enormous corridor with its obvious signs of dragon-inflicted damage kept the hair on the back of his neck prickling.

"Ungoliant's left tit," Nori swore as soon as they re-entered the cavern of the ruined marketplace. Dwalin actually choked a little at the impressive foulness of that curse. She paced back and forth, nervously flipping a small throwing knife that she'd produced from thin air. "This place just keeps getting better and better."

"Nori," Dwalin said. "Nori," he repeated louder when she didn't respond.

"What?" she asked, spinning around. The throwing knife disappeared just as smoothly as it had appeared.

"You know, it actually has been a long day," he said. Now that he was no longer in immediate mortal peril, his head had started throbbing again. "Let's set up camp somewhere."

They found a small house near the fountain that hadn't been entirely flattened by the dragon. Its lower level was still intact but the stairway to the second floor led up to the open air. Nori found a trapdoor to a lower level and with a cry of "Ah-hah!" emerged from it bearing a pile of wool blankets. 

"Shouldn't those have rotted away by now?" Dwalin asked.

Nori shook her head. "Perfectly dry conditions, the temperature probably doesn't fluctuate much... there's probably a lot of stuff left intact in this city if you look in the right places. There were wine bottles down there too, but sadly I doubt those are good anymore."

Dwalin shook off his misgivings at stealing from the dead and helped her spread out the blankets in a corner of the room. Sitting on the floor, they made a meager dinner, conserving their food supplies since they didn't know how long it would take to find a way to escape from Dracadelf.

"Do you think that Elf is really Hrathi Stonefist's Consort?" Dwalin asked after they'd eaten and were lounging on the blankets side by side. They could barely see each other in the faintly reflected blue glow of the ceiling constellations.

"I think so," Nori said. "Mahal, that would be horrible to be trapped down here for so long alone." She shuddered. "I'm not surprised he's gone mad. It was bad enough being stuck down here with you unconscious, and that was only for a few hours."

"You dragged me all the way from the rockslide?" Dwalin asked, still unable to quite imagine that.

She flashed him a quick grin. "Yes, and you weigh a ton, so you'd better appreciate it." 

"I do," he told her. "Lass, I appreciate you more than I could ever say."

Dwalin was never going to tell Nori that it was adorable when she looked bashful, because he preferred his family jewels right where they were, thank you. But it was.

_Maybe I should ask her now_ , he thought. But no, they were both exhausted and filthy. He would wait for a better time.

Nori yawned hugely. "I definitely feel like I dragged you the length of Ered Luin today. C'mere," she said, turning on her side facing away from him and lifting her arm up.

Dwalin slid over to play big spoon to her little spoon, feeling her body relax back into his as she yawned again. "First night we're not sleeping in a camp with a dozen other people and I'm too tired to do anything about it," she mumbled.

"Tomorrow. If we're not eaten by a dragon," he promised.

"I'll hold you to that," she said. "Think the Elf would mind if we fucked in the fountain?"

"In that fountain? Water's too cold."

"Mmm," she agreed, falling asleep. 

Dwalin drifted off, feeling surprisingly contented despite being marooned in a lost city with a crazy Elf and, possibly, a dragon.

***

"I can't sleep," Kili said, sitting up in bed. "I'm going to go take a walk. Don't wait up."

Fili smirked at him from the other bed. "Going to find your Elven sweetheart?"

"Shut up," Kili said. He was not pouting, no matter what Fili said.

"Good luck, little brother," Fili said. There wasn't any mockery in his voice, which almost made it worse. Kili was well aware that he was bright red as he slipped out the door. 

Tauriel had said she was on the far side of the floor if they needed to find her. She wouldn't have said that if she didn't want company, right? And she'd told him that she was bored out of her mind, so surely she wouldn't mind sitting up and talking for a while.

It was completely innocent anyway, no matter what Fili implied. Tauriel was an Elf, they didn't even look at Dwarves that way. Besides, Kili was still in love with Nori. Sort of. Maybe not as much as he had been.

As he neared the bench where he'd found Tauriel sitting originally, he heard soft singing in a language he didn't know. She was sitting on the bench again, with her legs crossed in that painful-looking way. Quietly singing and watching the night outside their barred windows, she looked otherworldly until she looked up at Kili and smiled.

"Kili," she said. "Have a seat." 

Kili sat down on the bench beside her, leaning his back against the wall. "What were you singing?" he asked.

"It's a ballad about two lovers from warring clans," she said. "It's very sad, though many think that it's romantic. I think that the whole mess could have been avoided if everyone had just sat down and talked it through." She shrugged. "Legolas always tells me I have no romance in my soul."

"Who is Legolas?" Kili asked. He felt suddenly worried that she would say he was her fiancée or something. Not that Kili was worried, really. Concerned.

"My foster-brother. He thinks that story of the two lovers is beautiful, even though it ends in tragedy." She rolled her eyes. "I told him he's got fluffy feathers for brains. I suppose I really shouldn't do that, since he'll be King someday."

"I tell my brother he's an ass all the time, and he's going to be King someday too," he said. "It's good for them."

She giggled, leaning her head forward so that her long hair hid her face. "I will tell him that when next I see him. Legolas could deal with a little bit of humility." Her voice sobered suddenly as she added, "If I ever see him again."

"You said you'd been here for over half a year. Couldn't you try to break out? Is the prison that heavily guarded?" Kili asked. If it was that heavily guarded, he wasn't sure how they could get out in time to rescue Nori and Dwalin.

Brushing her hair back, she shrugged. "I could have broken out in the first week I was here, if I'd tried."

He gaped at her. "Then why are you still here?" he demanded.

"Like an idiot, I gave my word to the Thegn that I wouldn't try to escape." She sighed, resting her arms on her knees and slumping back against the wall.

"Isn't anyone going to come looking for you?"

"Legolas might," Tauriel said. "If anyone would, it would be him. Riding to the rescue like a prince from one of those ballads he likes so much."

"Your foster-brother is a prince--so does that mean you're royalty from another Elven realm?" Kili asked.

"No," she said slowly, tilting her head as if trying to figure out why he'd just said something completely bizarre.

"That's the way it's done in the Dwarven kingdoms," he explained. "If we hadn't been driven from Erebor, I would probably have been fostered in a kingdom with a princess of a similar age, in the hopes that we would hit it off enough to be married."

Tauriel was staring at him in what appeared to be horror. "That's barbaric. Your King would marry you to someone purely for political reasons?"

"Well, not if we hated each other," Kili said, for some reason feeling the need to defend a custom he'd never been particularly enthusiastic about anyway.

"I see," she said, sounding very much as if she did not see at all.

He shrugged uncomfortably. "That's all moot anyway. Since Smaug destroyed Erebor we don't actually have a kingdom anymore."

"I remember when the refugees from Erebor came through Mirkwood," Tauriel said. "I was too young to guard the refugee caravans, though."

"That is so strange, to think that you remember something that happened decades before I was even born," Kili said. "I mean, I know that Elves live for a really long time, but you seem like you're my age."

She had dimples when she grinned. Kili found that immensely distracting for some reason. "Well, we probably are the same relative age for our races. I'm barely counted as an adult among Elves. Queen Merillael almost forbade me from going on this quest."

"Uncle Thorin didn't want to let me and Fili come along either," Kili said.

"Well, then we have another thing in common besides annoying older brothers," she said.

He laughed. "Too right." A companionable silence fell then. Kili found himself wondering about something Tauriel had said. "Can I ask you something? It's kind of... um. I apologize in advance if I cause offense."

"Ask," she said. "I will answer if I am able."

"After Smaug came, your people let us cross your land, guarded our refugee caravans, gave us food and tended our wounded. But your Queen refused to help us against the dragon. Why is that?" Kili really wanted to know. 

Tauriel bowed her head, seeming to muster her thoughts before speaking. Her eyes met his as she said slowly, "You must understand, our people had faced a dragon before with devastating consequences. During the great battle at the end of the Second Age, the Enemy loosed a dragon upon our forces. Thousands of Silvan Elves died, burnt alive by dragonfire. Queen Merillael's father, Oropher, and twin brother, Thranduil, were lost to the dragon's first attack.

"To face a dragon on the open battlefield is bad enough. But once it has fortified itself within a den of stone it is virtually unkillable. Hundreds of Elven warriors would have died, and we still would not have emerged victorious." She spread her hands out, saying, "Instead, we did what we could to help the survivors of Erebor and Dale."

"I see." Kili frowned. He wasn't entirely sure if he agreed with that reasoning. After all, an oath once given could not be taken back simply because it was dangerous to fulfill. However, it had given him something to think about. 

He yawned suddenly and wondered how late the hour was. "I should probably get to bed," he said. "I'm sure my brother is waiting up for me."

She nodded. "Good night, friend Kili. I hope that we will have a chance to talk again soon."

"Good night. I hope so too," he said, feeling a silly smile spread across his face.

He was floating on air when he came back into the bedroom he shared with Fili. His brother took one look at him and started laughing. "You look like a love struck idiot," Fili said. "Word of advice, don't let Mam see you grinning like that. She'll know what's going on in a second."

"Nothing is going on," Kili protested. He lay in bed for a few minutes, thinking about Tauriel. "Fili?" he asked quietly.

"What?" 

"Do you ever think about falling in love?"

"Yeah, of course I do," Fili said. 

Kili turned on his side facing his brother, who was lying on his back with his arms crossed beneath his head. "What do you think about it?"

"I figure someday I'll meet a girl and I'll just know," Fili said. "Like when Mam and Da met. She told me that she looked in his eyes and she knew he was the one for her."

"So you're waiting? What if you never meet her?"

"It'll happen when it's meant to happen," Fili said.

Kili frowned. "I don't think I'd have that much patience."

"You've never had any patience," Fili laughed. "Go to sleep, Kee."

Kili yawned. "Night, Fee."

***

Ingrith woke with a pounding headache, the taste of death in her mouth, and a knocking at her door. She staggered to her feet, noting that while she had made it all the way to the couch, her brother had passed out on the floor with his boots still on. Dorwinion wine had a kick like an oliphaunt.

She opened the door to the suite and was confused when there was no one outside the door but the knocking sound continued. Closing the door, she investigated further and found that there was a large, black bird perched by her casement window, knocking at the glass with its beak.

The Raven hopped inside when she opened the window, flying to the table in a brief flurry of wings. "Are all Dwarves so slow and stupid in the morning?" it asked in its raspy voice as it investigated the remains of dinner still lying on the table.

"We are after drinking half a bottle of Dorwinion wine," Ingrith moaned, holding her head. Sinking into a chair, she regarded the bird blearily. "What do you want?"

"Fermented grapes," the Raven said after investigating the dregs at the bottom of their wine glasses. "No wonder. Dwarves _are_ stupid, to drink that."

"This morning, I agree with you wholeheartedly," Ingrith said. She poured a glassful of water for herself and another for Eindrith whenever he finally woke up. "Did you want anything, other than to insult Dwarves?"

The bird hopped closer and turned its head to inspect Ingrith with one beady eye. "Have news of Orcs."

"What news of Orcs?" Eindrith asked sharply. Her brother was sitting up and looking alert despite appearing dead to the world a minute ago.

"What news?" she repeated when it seemed that the bird would ignore Eindrith.

"Saw at the foot of the mountain. About three hundred Orcs and twice as many Wargs." The Raven made its _toc-toc-toc_ noise. "Thought Dwarf might like to know."

"We have to warn everyone," Eindrith said. 

" _You_ have to warn everyone," Ingrith corrected him. "You know damned well he would just ignore me out of spite. Raven, go with my brother. Tell the Thegn what you told me."

The Raven made a remarkably rude-sounding noise. "Only speak to the female Dwarf. Other Dwarves boring."

"You've got to be kidding," Ingrith said. "I can't go with you, bird. Just tell your story to the Thegn, please?" Ignoring her, the Raven started tearing strips of meat from a half-eaten mutton leg.

"By the Scale, you're irritating," she swore. "Fine. Will you talk to the Thegn if I'm there? I've got blackberries," Ingrith added temptingly.

The Raven swallowed a chunk of meat. "Blackberries and another of these, raw."

"Blackberries and a raw leg of mutton. Deal," Ingrith said.

The throne room was crowded with onlookers when they arrived. The Council stood to the right of the Thegn's dais. Ingrith went to one knee before the dais, bowing her head. The Raven balanced easily on her shoulder.

"Rise," the familiar voice said. Ingrith stood behind Eindrith's left shoulder, keeping her eyes averted. The less he noticed her, the better it would be.

"My Thegn," Eindrith said formally. "We have news by way of a Raven that there is an army of Orcs and Wargs massing at the foot of the mountain."

"Are we to listen to idle rumors brought by the birds and beasts of the mountain, now? Speak, bird," the Thegn ordered. The Raven was stubbornly silent.

"Tell the Thegn what you told me," Ingrith urged the Raven.

"Ah. I should have realized this was your doing, Dame Ingrith." Sitting on his throne, he waved a hand dismissively. She heard the sound of the great doors to the throne room opening and the stamp of feet coming towards the throne. "I don't have time for your idle foolishness. Trouble me no more."

"There are three hundred Orcs and six hundred Wargs massed at the foot of the mountain!" Ingrith shouted as her brother pulled her away from the dais. "Father, please, listen!"

"You are no daughter of mine," their father, the Thegn, said just loud enough for them to hear.

It was nothing that he hadn't said before, she told herself. It shouldn't hurt so much hearing it again. Without a word, her brother put his arm around her waist as they stood to the left of the dais and she leaned on him gratefully.

Still perched on her shoulder, the Raven clacked its beak a few times. "Rude Dwarf could lose an eye, easy," it said. "Wouldn't even ask for more blackberries."

Ingrith smiled a little, feeling oddly touched. "Thank you for the offer, Raven, but no."

***

Dis watched with amusement as Bell said farewell to Ori with a fairly obvious kiss-bruise on her neck. She watched with somewhat less amusement as her younger son followed the red-headed Elf woman around like a puppy. 

"Young fools in love," Dis said to Balin, and they shared a chuckle of _thank Mahal that's not us_.

Thorin demanded an audience with the Thegn from the guards following breakfast. After the guards had gone, Dis pulled him aside to ask him what he was doing. "What is necessary," was all Thorin would say.

Sometimes Dis really wanted to punch her brother.

After a few hours, the guards returned with a summons from the Thegn. Dis walked beside Thorin with her head held high, disdainful of these strange surface-living, dragon-feeding Dwarves.

The doors to the throne room swung open and the guards led them in. There was some sort of scene happening in front of the dais. Dame Ingrith and the leader of the soldiers stood before the Thegn. For some reason there was a large Raven on the woman's shoulder.

"Trouble me no more," Dis heard the Thegn say as they neared the dais.

The soldier pulled Ingrith away bodily as she shouted, "There are three hundred Orcs and six hundred Wargs massed at the foot of the mountain! Father, please, listen!"

The crowd began murmuring, causing Dis to miss what the Thegn said next. She exchanged an alarmed look with Balin. That was a substantial number of Orcs and Wargs, and though the valley had good natural defenses she hadn't seen many warriors among the Dwarves of this city. It wouldn't take long for an army of Orcs to overrun the few soldiers and guards she's seen so far.

"My people, members of the Council, I have called you here for a matter of gravest importance," the Thegn said. "The father of lies, Grimr Honey-Tongued, claims that he has brought with him the reincarnation of our King. What do you have to say for yourself, impostor?" He apparently had no intention of discussing the reported army of Orcs and Wargs.

The crowd's murmur continued to grow in volume. Dis glanced to the side at her brother. Thorin looked impassive despite the looks aimed his way, which ran the gamut from skeptical to damned near worshipful. 

Thorin stepped forward. His voice filled the room when he spoke. More smoke and mirrors from the wizard, Dis would wager. "I say that I am your King, Hrathi Stonefist, reborn," Thorin said. The crowd exploded into a roar.

"I say that the only way to determine the truth of this is trial by dragonfire. Let the dragon decide!" the Thegn shouted. 

"Do you idiots truly mean to throw my brother down there with a dragon?" Dis demanded. Her voice was lost in the commotion.

"Order! Order!" an elderly Council member shouted, thumping a staff on the floor. The crowd quieted again, though a restless murmur filled the room like the sound of wind through the grass.

"What say you, Grimr the Liar?" the Thegn demanded. "Will your supposed king accept the trial of dragonfire?"

"Yes." It was Thorin who spoke, his voice echoing in the suddenly silent throne room. "I accept your challenge. I will face the dragon."

"What?" Dis hissed quietly.

Thorin's mouth barely moved as he said, just loud enough to be heard over the roar of the crowd, "Trust me."

"Order! Order!" The elderly Council member had to shout several times, thumping his staff on the ground, before the crowd quieted down.

"Very well," the Thegn said smugly. "We will lower this supposed king into Dracadelf tomorrow morning at dawn, as is traditional."

Thorin shook his head. "Immediately."

For the first time, the Thegn looked anything but smug. "That's not... traditional..." he protested.

The Council conferred among themselves before the elderly Council member with the staff stepped forward and said, "The Council accepts the challenger's request."

The Thegn smiled with gritted teeth. "So be it. Prepare the Dragon's Throat!"

"I hope that you know what you're doing," Dis told Thorin.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her, the fond smile of brother and sister rather than king and subject. "I hope so too," Thorin said.

They were escorted out of the palace to a broad plaza on the side of the city nearest to the mountain. A team of burly young Dwarves operated a giant wheel that rose above the the floor of the plaza. As they turned the wheel, a hatch opened in the floor of the plaza and a metal cage with a door rose up out of it.

"The Dragon's Throat!" the Thegn announced. The crowd, which had grown as they passed through the city, roared its approval. 

Thorin walked to the cage, walking ahead of the guards in a way that made it look like they were honor guards rather than escorting a prisoner.

The elderly Council member banged his staff on the ground before the Thegn could say anything more. The Thegn looked sour as the Council member announced, "According to the ancient laws of our city, you will be lowered into the Dragon's Throat and the cage will be left there for one full turn of the sun. We will raise the cage at that time. 

"If you are in fact our King Hrathi Stonefist reborn, you will return from this trial of dragonfire unscathed. If you are an impostor, we will not retrieve enough of you to bury. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Thorin said. 

Dis wanted to scream at him to stop being stupid. But he was her King as well as her brother, so she held her tongue.

She did not want to watch her brother calmly step into the cage, but she could not fail to honor his courage. Fili and Kili stood next to her and neither looked away. She could ask no more of her sons than that they face this with heads held high. For as many things as this world had taken from the line of Durin, they still had their honor and their bravery.

She watched without flinching as the cage door clanged shut. The Dwarves began turning the great wheel again and the cage slowly descended into the depths. Dis held eye contact with Thorin until he disappeared from view. The hatch closed with a terrifyingly final sound.

"We will return at this hour tomorrow and discover the judgement of the dragon," the Council member intoned.

"Come," Dis told her sons. "We will wait for Thorin's return."

Thorin _would_ return. She would not entertain the possibility of any other outcome.

***

It was hard to judge time with the unchanging dim blue light of the city, but it felt like early the next morning when Dwalin awoke. The first thing he noticed was that Nori was gone. Though he was almost sure that she had gone to wash off in the fountain, there was a tense feeling in his chest that didn't fully relax until he found her. She was sitting on the broad steps by the side of the fountain with wet hair. 

"Morning," Nori said, leaning up for a quick good morning kiss.

Dwalin rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wake himself up. "You bathed. How's the water?"

"That side is warmer," she said, pointing to one side of the fountain. 

Like an idiot, he stripped off and jumped right into the deepest part of the water without testing it first. "Mahal's fucking bollocks!" he shouted as he surfaced from the fountain, shaking cold water out of his hair in a wide spray across the steps. 

Nori actually fell over, she was laughing so hard. Dwalin snorted, unwillingly amused. "You're ridiculous."

"Not as... ridiculous... as your face!" Nori gasped between cackles. 

"Laugh it up, you're the one who'll be disappointed later that my hammer has shrunk all the way back inside my body," Dwalin said as he washed as best he could in icy cold water without soap. 

"Oh, I'm sure I won't have any problem warming your hammer up," she said, winking. Dwalin had to admit, she had a point.

Finished with his unsatisfying bath, he drip-dried for a while before putting his clothing back on and settling on the wide steps of the fountain next to Nori. She ran her hand over her unbraided hair, making a face. "My hair is all snarls and knots," she grumbled, pulling a comb out of a belt pouch.

"May I?" he asked. She handed him the comb and he settled himself behind her with his legs stretched on either side of her body. Gently, he worked the comb through her hair, tugging at the knots that had formed until they gave way. 

"I remember the first time you did this," she said.

"Aye," Dwalin said. "I still thought that your name was Nezhka and you were from the Orocarni Mountains."

Nori laughed. "That was a fun scam. Other than being hunted by the Mithril Hand, that is. And that was a fun night."

"I remember. We nearly got carried away and almost ended up getting married by default," he said. He combed through her hair, taking care of any snarls that he'd missed. Her long, red hair was the first thing he'd noticed about her. 

"I remember that too," she said, her voice going husky. 

Dwalin ran his fingers through her hair, his right hand lingering on the strands behind her right ear, where a traditional marriage braid would go. He ran his fingers through her hair again and rested his hands on her shoulders.

The ruined city was silent and shadowy around them, the fountain and their voices the only sounds to be heard. _Why wait for a better time?_ he thought. _We might starve down here, unable to find a way out. We might get eaten by a dragon. There may not ever be a better time._

"I told you that night that I knew what I wanted, and what I wanted was you," Dwalin said. "You told me that I didn't know you, and I can admit that you were right. But I know you now. Will you marry me, lass?"

Nori's shoulders were tense under his hands. He could feel her fairly vibrating with the urge to run. Dwalin carefully took his hands off her shoulders and rested them on his knees. "I'm not going to press you for an answer. I just wanted you to know that my cards are on the table."

Nori's voice was faintly unsteady as she said, "You're a really crappy card player. Your cards have been on the table for a while. You fucking bound yourself to my service."

"I swore a civil oath of fealty to you," he said. "I'm sworn to protect you and your family. It's not the same, and you know it." It was the same kind of oath a trusted family retainer or bodyguard would make, not the oath of a spouse.

"I know," she sighed. Dwalin prepared himself for her to walk away from him, telling himself it wasn't utter rejection, and was shocked almost beyond words when she leaned back into his body. "You are the most stubborn Dwarf I've ever met, Dwalin son of Fundin," she said, sliding her hands under his arms and then tugging until he got the idea and wrapped his arms around her.

Leaning his head against hers, he was unable to stop himself from asking, "Is that a yes?"

"You know just about the worst of me," she said. "You know I'm a thief and a con-woman. You know I'm a killer when necessary. You know that I've never tried being faithful before. And yet you still want to marry me. Why?"

"Because I know all the best of you too. I know that you're brave and loyal to the people you care about. I know that you have a ridiculous sense of humor. And I know that you're kind and generous, even if you don't like to admit it," Dwalin said. "I _know_ you, Nori."

She turned around so that she knelt on the step between his knees, her fingers cupping his face. "I know you too," she said, her eyes meeting his. "I know that you're grumpy, and stubborn, and jealous, and sometimes you can be a bit of an ass. I know that you'd follow Thorin Oakenshield off a cliff if he asked it of you." Dwalin made a face at her, but he couldn't deny that she was right.

Nori tipped her forehead forward to rest against his. "And I also know that you're the most patient, honorable, loving, _good_ Dwarf I've ever met. I know you, Dwalin."

"Yes," she said, smiling at him with tears in her eyes. "My answer is yes."

He wasn't sure which of them initiated the kiss, but it was perfect, absolutely perfect, the two of them kissing under a ceiling of faintly glowing blue stars in the middle of a lost city. 

Dwalin was going to pick Nori up and carry her to their nest of blankets, where they would make long, slow love until she got impatient and begged him to fuck her through the floor. It would be glorious. He had never felt happier in his life.

So it was at that moment, of course, that the sky fell in (not quite literally.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queen Merillael, Thranduil's twin sister, is entirely my creation. The way I imagine her she is totally bad-ass, like an angry Galadriel with even more fabulous costumes. 
> 
> I will be away from keyboard for a long weekend, so the next update will probably not be until mid to late next week. Sorry about the cliffhanger! It was the only way that chapter would end. 
> 
> Next time: Fated Love! Elves! Dragons! (Finally!)


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thorin descends into the Dragon's Throat and Hrathi meets an Elf in a hidden valley (not that one.)

The cage door clanged shut. Thorin kept his eyes trained on his sister and sister-sons as the cage jerked and some mechanism started it moving smoothly down into the dark. The light from above dwindled and then suddenly went out as the hatch slammed down above the cage.

Thorin was left alone in complete darkness with the sound of clicking gears and rattling chains as the cage descended down a tunnel bored through the solid rock of the mountain. He muttered a brief prayer to Mahal that he would not leave his sister entirely alone but for her sons, and then there was nothing to do but wait.

His mind wandered, unmoored in the endless black, and dreams came to him that seemed like memories, so vivid and real were they, but they were of a life he'd never led. At least, not as Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror.

***

A Dwarf in heavy traveling gear and a fur-lined cloak climbed up a steep and snowy pass. Thorin experienced a strange doubling, seeing the scene from an outside viewpoint and yet at the same time feeling it happen as if he were there. 

The wind howled in his ears, carrying ice crystals which sliced at any exposed flesh. He looked around him desperately, seeking shelter as the late spring blizzard grew worse. He saw a shadowy cleft among the rocks and took the chance of climbing up to it, hoping that it was more than just a shallow divot in the rock face.

As it turned out, he had guessed correctly. The Dwarf squirmed through a narrow entrance, barely wide enough for his pack, and found that it let out into a moderately-sized cave. He pushed back his hood, revealing the proud, narrow nose and long face typical of the line of Durin. Thorin wondered if Hrathi Stonefist (for that was who this must be) was somehow related to the line of Durin. He looked young, perhaps only a few years older than Fili, though his traveling gear was well-worn and he handled himself with a confidence beyond his years. The Dwarf immediately lit a torch in order to investigate the cave for prior occupants.

There was a sound from a passage at the back of the cave. Thorin--or Hrathi--or maybe it was both of them who spun around at the noise, drawing his axes. "Who is there?" he demanded. Thorin immediately felt foolish for announcing himself to whatever was sharing the cave with him, whether it be a cave bear or a goblin.

"I could ask the same of you," replied a rich, resonant voice with a bit of an accent that Thorin didn't recognize.

"Show yourself," Hrathi ordered.

"If you insist," the voice said in tones of pure boredom. An Elf dressed in plain leathers stepped into the cave from the back passageway. The ruddy light of the torch dyed his long, pale blond hair slightly reddish but did nothing to hide the icy pale blue of his eyes. "Now that we have seen each other, could you kindly leave and find yourself your own cave? This one has already been claimed."

"There's a blizzard outside, Elf. There's no way I'm going back out into that." The Elf might be rude, but that was no reason to abandon proper manners. "Hrathi, son of Hrefna, at your service." He met the Elf's eyes unflinchingly. Mother's son Hrathi might be, but he bore the burden with pride. It was hard to read the Elf's expression, but he didn't see any of the familiar pity or scorn. Perhaps he hadn't even recognized that as a female Dwarf's name.

The Elf paused for a moment before replying, "Gwethael, at yours."

With that telltale pause, Hrathi wouldn't be surprised if "Gwethael" was a false name. Still, it mattered not to him what name some strange Elf decided to call himself. "Well met, Gwethael," Hrathi said. "Don't suppose you have any wood for a fire?"

The Elf jerked as if startled. "I do have some firewood, yes." He made a summoning gesture with his long, twig-like fingers, as freakishly elongated as any of his race. "If you plan to invade my home until the blizzard is past, we may as well wait in more comfort." Gwethael waited impatiently until Hrathi followed him down a corridor. The natural rock showed signs of having been smoothed by hand at some points. 

The cave which Gwethael led him to seemed to have been inhabited for some time, judging by the furs piled in a sleeping niche and the tools neatly lined up on a work surface hewn from the rock. A pile of what looked like pieces of armor lay by the work bench. There was a firepit in the center of the cave with a chimney leading up from it, necessary to keep the smoke from choking the inhabitants of the cave.

The Elf squatted by the side of the firepit and piled a few split logs on the low embers, easily coaxing new flame from the embers. Hrathi put out his torch and carefully laid it aside so that it could be used again. The Elf looked up at him, silvery blond hair spilling over his shoulders in an unbraided mass. Thorin felt slightly concerned that the strands would catch fire. "Be welcome to shelter this night at my hearth, Hrathi, son of Hrefna."

The wording was a little different, but close enough to the traditional Dwarven greeting of host to guest. "I thank you for your hospitality and swear that I will offer no violence to you or your kin while I am your guest," he said formally. The words bound them as host and guest for the night, one of the oldest oaths of Dwarvenkind. Breaking that oath with violence would be punishable with the loss of a Dwarf's beard and braids. (Hrathi wasn't sure what an Elf's punishment for breaking the oath could consist of, since Elves had no beards and their braids were generally nothing impressive.)

Hrathi dug into his pack and produced a wrapped hunk of jerky, holding it out for the Elf to take. "It's not much, but it's what I have," he said. A gift of food to the host was traditional, if the traveler had food to share.

Gwethael took the jerky with an unimpressed look, tearing off as small a piece as possible before handing it back. "My thanks," he said with a grimace before popping the jerky into his mouth and chewing grimly.

"Elves eat meat, don't they?" Hrathi asked.

Gwethael swallowed. "Yes, most of us eat meat--but that barely counted as food." 

Feeling distinctly insulted, Hrathi settled his pack in an empty corner of the room as the Elf disappeared down another side corridor. Hrathi took the opportunity to snoop around the pile of armor by the workbench. It was a jumbled collection of plate armor, fine work for all that it was clearly Elven in origin. It was charred black as if the metal had been exposed to intense flame. Yet surely any flame that intense would have killed whoever was wearing the armor. Perhaps the Elf had retrieved it from a fallen comrade. Or scavenged it from the battlefield, for a less generous interpretation.

The haunch of deer that Gwethael reappeared carrying made Hrathi soon forget his annoyance with the Elf for insulting his gift of food. After eating, they relaxed by the fire with full bellies. 

"What brings you here to this pass?" the Elf asked. "This is not on the road to anything at all. All that lies beyond this point is trackless wilderness."

Hrathi contemplated his response. Elves did not generally bother with mining jewels themselves, so there should be no danger in telling him the truth. "I'm prospecting," he said. "The White Mountains are rich in gem deposits. I seek a good place to mine."

"I see," Gwethael said, his lips pursed in distaste. "And if you do find gem deposits, should I expect a flood of your kin to arrive and destroy the peace of this mountain?"

"I am only seeking the type of shallow deposits near the surface that are easily mined by a lone Dwarf," Hrathi reassured him. "I do not plan to bring in any other Dwarves." He had no kin to call upon, besides, other than his mother. She was settled in a town of Men ten days walk away, taking in work as a seamstress. One of the first things he planned to do with the money he would hopefully bring in from mining was to buy his mother a loom, so that she could practice her true craft as a weaver.

"Good. It had best remain that way," Gwethael said. "Though I do doubt your intelligence, mining alone when any accident could easily lay you low with no help to be found."

"I'll take my chances," Hrathi said. "What is an Elf doing living alone so deep into the mountains?"

The Elf was completely motionless, like a statue made of marble. "I enjoy the quiet," he said after a long pause.

Hrathi knew some of the reasons why one might give an answer that was no answer at all, and did not press any further.

He slept that night in a corner of Gwethael's cave, huddled under his bedroll against the chill that penetrated even into the cave. In the morning, he woke up covered by two wolf pelts that did not belong to him. The Elf was gone.

The spring blizzard had covered the ground in a thick coating of snow that melted surprisingly quickly once the storm was done. Hrathi pressed on, continuing up the pass until it appeared to end in a sheer wall of stone. 

He swore out loud, frustrated that he'd wasted so much time on a route that dead-ended. Then he paused and took a closer look at what looked like a blank wall. There was an opening, just wide enough for a Dwarf to squeeze through. Hrathi tapped his thumb nervously against his pack strap, not fond of the idea of squeezing into a passage that might dead-end or narrow too far to continue down. There was no way, though, that he was going to have wasted all this time trekking up this pass without at least seeing where the path led.

There were a few times during the twisting journey through the stone where Hrathi thought he might get stuck, but he managed to force himself through with only a minimum of skin lost to the stone. The view he saw upon exiting the passageway was entirely worth the trouble of getting there.

A high mountain valley stretched before him with a small river running down its length. The river originated on the far end of the valley in a waterfall down a sheer face of stone and disappeared underground not far from where Hrathi stood. The valley was covered in grass, brown from the recent end of winter, but there were hints of green here and there. It was a perfect, amazing jewel of a valley, completely uninhabited by Elf, Man, or Dwarf as far as he could see.

Now, if only the valley walls had deposits of gems easily reachable with hand tools, he'd consider himself truly blessed by Mahal.

He made camp by the chuckling river that night and caught fat silver fish in its gentle eddies. Roasting fish by the fire, Hrathi planned out where to prospect for gems. 

He found a seam of rose quartz on the surface of the cliffs that surrounded the little valley the very first morning. Not valuable enough to justify mining, but it was a good indicator that there might be other gem-bearing rocks nearby. The second day, he found what he had been looking for: a vein of amethyst in a rocky outcrop on the valley floor. Hrathi set himself to mining what he could with the tools he had carried in his pack.

It was hard, exhausting work. Hrathi started work at sunrise and kept working until near sundown most days. He was coated in dirt from his boots to his braids, and took to working shirtless as the days warmed up. His dinners consisted of fish caught in his basket trap and the occasional rabbit or squirrel caught in his snares.

Every seven days he'd take a half-day of rest in honor of Durin. Which was not to say that he spent that half-day doing nothing: that was time for repairing gear, sorting amethyst crystals by size and quality, and bathing in the river.

One afternoon almost a month after he'd found the hidden valley, Hrathi had just finished bathing and was sitting in the sandy shallows of the river, working a comb through his unbraided hair, when Gwethael came striding up the valley.

He hadn't seen the Elf since that night he'd taken shelter in his cave during the blizzard. Hrathi stood and offered polite greeting as water dripped copiously from his beard and hair into the river. "Well met, Gwethael."

"Well met, Hrathi," Gwethael said, though he seemed to be trying not to look directly at Hrathi for some reason. 

Belatedly, Hrathi remembered that the other races tended to be prudes about public nudity. He mentally shrugged. Dwarves felt no shame about being as naked as they had been when Mahal made them, and he didn't particularly care if the Elf was uncomfortable with it. "What brings you to the valley?" he asked.

"I thought I would see if you had been killed by your own stupidity yet," Gwethael said.

Hrathi snorted. "Still alive. Hope that's not too disappointing for you."

The Elf tilted his head slightly. "I shall live."

Hrathi did a double-take. Had that been a joke? Surely not, everyone knew that Elves had no sense of humor. "Do you wish to join me for dinner? I can offer you better than jerky this time."

"I thank you for your hospitality." Gwethael politely kept his eyes averted while Hrathi dressed.

After a dinner of fish roasted over the fire with tubers and a green leafy weed that Gwethael had gathered from the riverbank, they sat quietly by the campfire. Hrathi nursed a pipe contentedly, enjoying his limited supply of pipe-weed. A question had occurred to Hrathi quite some time ago, and now he took the opportunity to voice it. "How is it that you did not settle in this valley yourself? It seems custom-made for an Elf with a desire for privacy."

Gwethael gazed into the fire with distant-looking eyes. "Of late, I find myself appreciating the security of stone all around me. Not terribly Elvish of me, I suppose." His eyes flared brightly blue as he lifted them to meet Hrathi's. "And you? Working in the sun all day under the open air doesn't seem particularly Dwarvish to me."

Hrathi shrugged easily. "My mother and I have travelled between the towns of Men for as long as I can remember. I'm about as strange a Dwarf as you're likely to find. I actually enjoy the open air."

They spent the rest of the evening in quiet conversation. Hrathi found himself enjoying Gwethael's acid tongue and occasional flashes of subtle humor. He guessed that the Elf must be truly lonely, to enjoy the company of a Dwarf.

That set the pattern for the rest of the summer. Gwethael would stop by mid-afternoon on Hrathi's day of rest and they would make dinner together, then talk long into the evening. Hrathi came to look forward to those evenings, stopping work earlier on those days so that he would be able to spend more time with the Elf. He was surprised to realize he had begun to consider Gwethael a friend. 

Now that he had begun seeing Gwethael as a friend first and as an Elf second, he slowly began to see that Gwethael's feelings for him were more than simple friendship. The Elf watched him constantly when they were together, and Hrathi suspected he did not always notice Gwethael's first approach on the days when he bathed in the river.

He did not speak of his suspicions, for while it bothered Hrathi not at all that Gwethael was male, Hrathi was a Dwarf and Gwethael an Elf. Hrathi would enjoy Gwethael's company for what it was and they would part as friends. Anything more was impossible.

At last the summer ended and Hrathi began to make preparations to leave the mountain before winter set in. His makeshift mine had produced a bounty of amethyst crystals of varying quality. He and his mother would need to travel to a larger city in order to sell all of it.

"I will be leaving in the morning," he told Gwethael as they sat by the campfire. He had delayed his departure as long as possible so that he would have one final night to spend with the Elf.

"I wish you the best of luck on your travels. Do try not to get killed by footpads." The Elf's eyes were unreadable, aloof as he had been when they had first met.

Hrathi laughed. "I give you my word that I will try to avoid that."

The Elf's shining silver-blond hair slid over his shoulder as Gwethael inclined his head. "See that you do. I should hate to see what might settle in this valley should you vacate it permanently."

There seemed to be a question buried in Gwethael's comment. "I do plan on returning," Hrathi said. "As fine a haul as I have made, this won't keep my mother and I in comfort for the rest of our lives. I'll be back in a few summers, I'm sure."

The Elf raised one shoulder in an elegant shrug. "So soon? Two years is an eye's blink, for an Elf." Still, Hrathi thought that he had gotten to know Gwethael well enough to hear relief in his voice.

They talked long past the setting of the golden autumn moon. Hrathi told Gwethael small stories of his mother and their vagabond lifestyle, wandering between the cities and villages of Man. Gwethael, as always, said nothing about his own past, but he did tell stories of the Elves in ancient Beleriand. Hrathi noticed that Gwethael shied away from telling the stories of great battles, instead focusing on romances and at most minor skirmishes. It made him wonder again about the pile of fire-blackened armor in the Elf's cave.

They clasped arms as they said farewell. Hrathi felt oddly disoriented by the reminder of how much taller than him Gwethael actually was. Apparently he'd somehow stopped seeing the Elf as unnaturally tall during their nights of sitting by the fire talking. And if he was to be honest with himself, he'd started to see the Elf as beautiful, in his own way. But that mattered not.

Gwethael said something in the slippery, musical language of the Elves. Hrathi glared at him until he sighed and repeated it in Westron. "May the road rise up to meet you and may the wind always be at your back, my friend."

"That's better," Hrathi said. "Strong may your axe-arm be and may your tankard never run empty." He paused and added, "My friend."

The wind was howling and snow coated Hrathi's beard and froze in his eyelashes when next he climbed the pass. He was half-frozen by the time he reached Gwethael's cave, hands and feet long gone numb as he stumbled into the inner cave where the Elf sat by the fire. 

A flash of alarm crossed Gwethael's face, but all he said was, "I did not think it had been two years." Indeed, it had barely been three weeks.

Hrathi stood for a few moments, blinking white-coated eyelashes at him, before silently falling to his knees. Gwethael stood abruptly and crossed to him, reaching out a hand to almost touch the Dwarf's snow-coated shoulder.

Hrathi's numb hands formed into fists. He stared down at them, his breath heaving in his chest.

"Hrathi?" the Elf asked cautiously.

"They killed her." Hrathi almost felt as if the voice came from outside himself, to sound so calm despite the storm of anger inside his heart. "A few Man-children sickened, a horse went lame, a cow's milk soured, and they blamed my mother. They said that Dwarves bring ill luck with them. They called her a witch, and they--they--" His hands were pressed to his head, his fingers gripping strands of hair and pulling, pulling until they started to rip out at the roots.

"Stop," Gwethael said, kneeling in front of Hrathi and gently but inexorably prying his hands open. "Injuring yourself will not help matters."

"What will help?" Hrathi demanded. "How can anything ever be right again? I would burn their village to the ground, I would slit their children's throats and I would sow the ground where they fell with salt, and then perhaps--perhaps--"

"Vengeance will not bring your mother back," Gwethael said, cradling Hrathi's hands between his own. "Vengeance only begets more vengeance. The history of my people is blackened with it."

"I cannot. I cannot," Hrathi said. Falling to hands and knees, he began to sob, great painful sobs of grief and hopelessness. 

Gwethael's hands hovered unsurely over Hrathi's crumpled form before sliding under the Dwarf's arms and pulling him up to rest his weight on the Elf, his head tucked into Gwethael's shoulder. 

Hrathi's hands clutched convulsively at Gwethael's arms. He twisted, his body convulsing with the force of his grief. "I cannot," he repeated, over and over until he was barely whispering the words, his voice wrecked and hoarse.

"My friend," Gwethael breathed. Tears stood in his eyes. 

"Are we? Are we friends?" Hrathi demanded.

"You know that we are. I love you as a shield brother."

Hrathi shook his head. "You lie, Gwethael. I know why you speak with me past the setting of the moon, why you watch me as I bathe, why your eyes follow me everywhere. You love me as a man. Admit it."

The Elf paused, his expression torn. "I... cannot deny it."

Hrathi made a triumphant noise as he buried his hands in Gwethael's long hair and pulled him down into a kiss made bittersweet with grief and desperation. 

They fucked with animalistic passion on a bed of furs by a dying fire. After, Hrathi lay with his head on Gwethael's chest and his fingers still tangled in the Elf's hair. "Tell me this truth if you love me," he said hoarsely. "What is your real name?"

He who had been called Gwethael stared into the shadows of the ceiling with a look of old grief in his eyes. "I will tell you. But you must swear not to speak this name outside these walls, for I am sure that if I am found by my people I will be killed for what I have done."

"This do I swear."

"Thranduil," the Elf said. He closed his eyes. "My name is Thranduil."

***

Thorin reeled back from the vision, shaking his head. Mahal! That was a vision he could have done without. To know that his past self had taken an Elf as a Consort was one thing, to see/feel/remember it so vividly was... quite another.

The cage was still descending through the dark, chains rattling and metal creaking in a way that filled him with concern for the safety of this vehicle, but another vision was barreling in on him, obscuring his field of vision and making the present day world dissolve around him...

***

Thranduil paused on the edge of the cavern, a look of distaste crossing his face at the heavy layers of stone dust covering every surface. "I am given to understand that Dwarves require regular rest and sustenance or else their fragile mortal bodies will begin to break down," he said with an air of disinterest.

Hrathi laughed, wiping sweat and grime out of his eyes with an only slightly less filthy rag. "Is that your way of saying you're concerned about me, Elf?"

Thranduil shrugged one shoulder elegantly. "I should hate to have to break in a new bed partner because the current one has worked himself to death." His eyes gleamed with amusement.

"You would never," Hrathi said. "You'd pine away, all the while dreaming of my cock."

Thranduil tipped his head to the side, his lips curling up at the edges. "Perhaps."

Hrathi looked consideringly at the rock wall he'd been working. He was so close that he could feel the gem deposits within the rock, but the Elf was right--if he didn't take a break and eat some food from time to time, he really would work himself to death. "Very well, since you've asked so prettily," he said, bowing deeply. Thranduil rolled his eyes and stalked away without a word.

He had to admit, the roast pheasant and tubers had been well worth the few hours of lost work time. Hrathi lit his pipe after dinner and let himself relax. Just briefly. He'd be back at it at first light tomorrow.

Thranduil lay on his side with his head resting on Hrathi's knee as he ran his fingers gently through the Elf's unbound hair. Hrathi smoked contentedly, thinking of his plans.

"Why are you doing this?" Thranduil asked. "For what purpose do you half kill yourself to wrest gems out of the stone?"

It was not the first time he had asked. But for once Hrathi felt the urge to answer with the truth rather than brushing him off. "There are many skilled Dwarven warriors who work as sell-swords these days," he said. "They may have started their lives as honorable Dwarven warriors, sworn to petty lords, but the wages of war and the unrest in the Iron Hills and the Orocarni Mountains have uprooted them. They work for the highest bidder and they do not ask questions."

Drawing away from him and sitting up, Thranduil shook his head. "Please tell me that I am wrong about why you seek to buy the services of sell-swords."

"Those Men must pay!" Hrathi snarled. He stood and started pacing, saying, "I swore an oath on my mother's grave that I would take vengeance upon those who killed her. I am only one Dwarf, but with enough sell-swords at my back, I can put that town to the torch and avenge my mother's murder. Do not try to stop me."

"I already know that you will not listen to reason," Thranduil said. "I will not waste my breath on fruitless argument. This doom is yours to bring upon yourself."

"Yet you do not order me to leave your sight," Hrathi said. "Why?"

The Elf laughed bitterly. "I fear that my foolish heart has doomed me alongside you, my love, just as inescapably."

"Do not speak to me of doom," Hrathi ordered. "I defy fate. I will carve you a kingdom from these wretched lands of Men."

Hrathi stood before Thranduil, for once taller than him since the Elf was still seated. He stroked a hand down the pale, beardless cheek that he had once thought unhandsome. "You will rule beside me as my royal Consort. Beloved of the King."

Thranduil dropped his gaze, his blue eyes hooded and opaque. "If that is your wish, my love."

Thorin watched as Hrathi gathered a small army of sell-swords. Watched as he put the village of Men to the torch just as he had promised. Watched as the survivors of the attack, old men and women with babes at their breasts and children hiding behind their skirts, pledged their fealty to Hrathi in exchange for their lives.

Watched as Hrathi's reputation as a warlord spread, village by village. Watched as Thranduil rode by Hrathi's side and slew Men in his lover's name. Watched as one evening Hrathi and Thranduil's forces were ambushed by Dunlending warriors. 

Their weapons were dripping red with Dunlending blood, and yet still the enemy came on, overpowering them with numbers even if they could not match them in skill. Hrathi took an arrow to the lower chest and dropped to one knee, bloody froth flecking his lips. The leader of the Dunlendings raised his sword in the air, preparing to dispatch Hrathi. Thranduil roared in protest, cutting his way through their attackers and yet not close enough to reach them in time.

Thorin watched helplessly as his past self sagged forward to hands and knees, panting wetly. The Dunlending leader's sword reached its zenith and then swept downward. And then Thranduil's anguished cry was drowned out by a mighty roar. Hrathi's bones vibrated from the unimaginably immense volume of it. He blinked his dimming eyes and looked up just in time to see a sheet of fire sweep across the sky, burning the Dunlending leader alive.

The Dunlendings didn't stand a chance against the wrath of a dragon. The dragon loosed tongues of flame against them, and they fell screaming as they fled. Hrathi was too weak to rise, his breathing growing slow and raspy as he lay clutching his sword.

At last the screaming and roaring died away, replaced by the low crackle of fire in the brush. Hrathi's eyes grew dim, darkness pressing in around the edges of his vision. Then Thranduil was kneeling before him, calling his name frantically.

Hrathi raised a shaking hand and pressed it against Thranduil's cheek, staining it with blood. "My love," he said. "I am sorry to leave you all alone."

Thranduil cradled his blunt, square hand with his long, thin-fingered hand. "You will not, my love. If you leave this world and go into the Halls of Waiting, I will not wait here for you alone."

"No," Hrathi coughed. "Do not say that."

"I will not let you die," Thranduil swore. 

Thranduil closed his eyes and reached under his own cloak, wincing with pain as he drew forth his hand with an effort. There was something in his hand, something that glowed and shimmered with light and surpassing beauty. It was a gem, Thorin thought, about the size of a Dwarf's palm. It looked like nothing so much as the Arkenstone. How could this be? The Arkenstone would not even be mined for another half an Age!

Thranduil pressed the stone into Hrathi's hand and guided it down to the Dwarf's chest. "I give you my Heart now, as I had already given to you my heart," he said.

Hrathi felt the stone like a burning brand pressing against his chest. The stone felt so hot that he almost expected to smell his own roasting flesh. He screamed, convulsing against the Elf's hands, as the burning heat penetrated _inside_ of him. 

Then the pain peaked and ebbed away, leaving a gentle heat humming inside his chest. A feeling of peace and joy filled him, bubbling through his soul.

"What did you do?" Hrathi whispered, pressing his empty hand against his undamaged flesh. The stone had disappeared.

Tears slipped from Thranduil's eyes even as he smiled serenely down at the Dwarf. "I gave you the dragon's Heart, my love. Guard it well."

***

_What in Mahal's name?_

Thorin staggered as the cage jerked to a sudden stop, its chains grinding and whining with a sound of stressed metal. He wondered how long it had been since this method of gaining entrance to the lost city had last been used. He also wondered whether the shifting bones of the mountain that had caused the secret door to collapse under a rockslide had done similar damage to the ancient mechanism of the Dragon's Throat.

Through the bars of the cage he saw a dimly lit Dwarven city far below him. It looked strangely familiar to him, for all that Thorin had never seen it before. "Dracadelf," he whispered. 

The cage jerked again and one side of it appeared to break free from its supports. Thorin was thrown around inside the cage as it swung perilously from one side. He held his breath, not daring to make a move, and then there was a horrible scream of metal as the supports finally gave way and the cage fell.

Thorin thought desperately of his beloved sister and sister-sons, waiting for him to return safely. He thought of the Elf, waiting for him in the cold and dark, so terribly alone. And then there was a crash that filled the world, and Thorin knew no more.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the shit hits the fan in Dracadelf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Thranduil's headspace being particularly not good, including losing track of reality, flashbacks, avoidance, and other PTSD symptoms.

There was a distant rattling, clunking noise. Nori was understandably distracted by kissing Dwalin (her _betrothed_ ) but the sudden noise interrupting the immense silence of Dracadelf drew her attention. She broke off the kiss, pulling back and looking around them for the source of the noise.

"Did you hear--?" she asked.

Dwalin stood and drew his axes, saying grimly, "Aye, I did."

The clunking noise came again, accompanied by the sound of metal snapping. Nori looked up just as a strange metal cage attached to metal tracks on the wall of the cavern began to break away from its supports, wavering in mid-air. She had noticed the tracks earlier, on the wall of the cavern near the vast hallway that led to the throne room, but she hadn't thought much of them. Now Nori could see that the tracks must have been part of an ingenious method of transporting Dwarves between Dracadelf and the surface.

The cage shuddered and with a screech of tortured metal, the track gave way entirely and the whole thing crashed to the cavern floor.

"I think there's someone in there," she shouted to Dwalin as they began running towards the wreckage. It was hard to judge how far the cage had fallen. She hoped it had not been far enough to kill or severely injure whoever had been inside.

They pounded across the paving stones of the ancient city, arriving by the wreckage just as a final piece of the track peeled away from the wall and crashed to the ground. Dwalin stowed his axes and they both started pulling broken, twisted metal apart. 

"What has happened?" the Elf asked, suddenly appearing beside them.

"Don't know," Nori said, barely sparing him a glance as she helped Dwalin pull a broken piece of track away.

The Elf took only a second to take in the scene before pitching in to help. Soon they had the wreckage cleared enough to see a crumpled, bloody figure lying in the ruin of the cage. The proud nose and silver-streaked hair were unmistakable.

"Thorin!" Dwalin cried.

At the same time, Thranduil gasped and asked, "Hrathi?"

They lifted Thorin out of the wreckage carefully, afraid to give him worse injury. Dwalin and Nori carried him a safe distance away from the pile of creaking metal that was all that remained of the strange mechanism and laid him flat on the pavement. The Elf seemed frozen, staring into place silently like a statue. 

***

The crash had startled Thranduil out of his grey haze of drifting thoughts. 

Of late, it seemed to him that he had been losing time. He couldn't quite remember what day it was, and it seemed that Hrathi had been gone for a lot longer than he should have been. Where had he gone exactly? When Thranduil tried to remember, his mind would become hazy and the next thing he knew, he would wake up hours or perhaps days later with his head aching, still alone.

He thought perhaps he used to be better than this, that his mind was clearer once, but it was so hard to remember and the days seemed to blur together while Hrathi was gone.

And then one day there were new people. A female Dwarf with a clever face and a soothing voice and her companion, a male Dwarf who was tall for his kind (tall as Hrathi, he thought.) The woman did all the talking while the man silently watched Thranduil with dark, suspicious eyes. The woman, Nori, was a bright spot of color in the dull grey of his existence, and he almost wanted to beg her to stay and talk to him. But she said that they would not trouble him further in his throne room and they were staying by the fountain in the Grand Market if he wanted to talk again.

He wanted to, he really did, but there was something... something about the Grand Market he didn't like. He never went there anymore, though he couldn't remember why. So Thranduil continued to wait in the throne room. He had been waiting for so long, sometimes it seemed like he had been waiting there forever.

He was startled out of the grey haze of drifting thoughts by a ground-shaking crash accompanied by the scream of tearing metal. Thranduil left his throne room for the first time in a long time ( _how long?_ ) and went to see if he could render assistance if anyone had been injured.

He caught his breath as he saw the Dwarf lying broken and bloodied in the pile of broken metal. It was Hrathi, but it wasn't Hrathi. His hair had gone completely silver by the time he ( _died_ ) left. How could he be younger now?

"Hrathi?" Thranduil heard himself ask, and then the grey tide of memory crashed over him, bearing him away.

***

_"What do you mean, you gave me a dragon's heart?" Hrathi demanded. "I was dying! What have you done?"_

_The brush was still smoldering around them. Outside the circle of complete destruction around Hrathi, the wounded groaned wretchedly; even further away, the able-bodied survivors fled for their lives._

_"What I had to do to save you," Thranduil said. He would do it again, too, no matter what the price._

_Except that a dragon's Heart could be given only to one person, and only once in a lifetime would it heal all injuries. Considering what it cost the dragon, Thranduil had thought he'd never have reason to give his Heart away. But he'd been utterly lost to reason since the moment he had met a vagabond Dwarf's eyes and seen the other half of his soul shining back at him._

_"And where did the dragon go?" Hrathi demanded, struggling to his feet despite the weight of his armor. "It was right there! A great, terrible beast, breathing flame against our enemies!"_

_Thranduil steeled himself. "My love, the Dragon is I."_

_"You're an Elf," Hrathi said flatly._

_"And I am also a Dragon. Please do not ask me how that is possible," Thranduil said. He really could not bear explaining right now the terrible mistake he had made in his foolish, reckless pride and anger. "You are still numbered among the living, and that is all that matters right now."_

_Hrathi looked around them at the fire-seared corpses lying where they had fallen. "A dragon could be a powerful weapon," he said slowly._

_Thranduil closed his eyes in despair. He could feel his doom settling upon him._

***

"This is bad," Nori said, meeting Dwalin's eyes across Thorin's unconscious body. At a glance, she could see a broken arm and leg and a bleeding gash on his scalp; she would guess at broken ribs as well based on the shallow, wheezing rhythm of Thorin's breath. They had no way to know what further injuries he might have inside.

"That wizard of yours would come in right useful right now," Dwalin said grimly.

They stopped his bleeding and straightened his arm and leg as best they could, breaking apart a few pieces of furniture that had somehow survived the destruction of Dracadelf to create makeshift splints. Thorin did not stir, even when they straightened the ugly-looking break in his right arm.

"I don't know what more we can do," Nori said. "If we had Grimr and Lady Dis, then maybe he'd have a chance. As it is, even if he's not bleeding inside, I'm afraid we'll lose him to wound fever."

She looked up just as the Elf seemed to come back to life, pressing his hands to his face and bowing his head. Thranduil's shoulders seemed to shake for a moment before he dropped his hands and raised an utterly calm face. He walked toward them rapidly, not quite running, and fell to his knees across from Nori. 

"Any healing magic you have would be greatly appreciated, Prince Consort," Nori said. 

"While I am no match to Lord Elrond when it comes to the healing arts, I am able to do a limited amount of healing," Thranduil said. He rested his fingertips on Thorin's chest and closed his eyes, seeming to concentrate. Nori and Dwalin waited impatiently for a few minutes until Thranduil opened his eyes, dropping his hands into his lap. All the color had drained from the Elf's already pale complexion, leaving him waxen and lifeless-looking.

"Well?" Dwalin asked.

"He will enter the Halls of Waiting within the day without the help of a great healer. He is bleeding inside his body, here," Thranduil pressed his fingers briefly to Thorin's gut, "and here." He pressed his fingers to the right side of Thorin's chest.

"No," Dwalin breathed roughly. He threw himself to his feet and stalked away from them, his fists clenched.

"Is there any way?" Nori demanded. "Anything at all that you can do?"

"Yes." The Elf closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Tell me this, Nori daughter of Kori," he said, his eyes almost unnaturally blue as he met Nori's gaze. "Is he a good man? Does he value his people's welfare more than he values gold? Will I bring back a tyrant--or a king?"

"A king," Nori said softly. "He's a good man. Stubborn and obstinate, yes, but I do think that he'll be a good king." She paused. "Was he... not a good man, before?"

The Elf looked away. "I think he was, once. I pray that he will be again." Closing his eyes again, he reached under the folds of his robe, seeming to feel for something around the level of his heart. He made a deep, choked sound and started pulling his hand out. Cupped in the palm of his hand was a glowing gem about the size of Nori's palm.

 _Where was he hiding that?_ , Nori wondered. It didn't quite look like diamond or opal, but like some magical hybrid, glowing with its own internal light. It was the biggest, most beautiful gemstone she'd ever seen. Her fingertips itched with the urge to steal it.

Thranduil placed the gem on Thorin's chest. It started glowing even more brightly until Nori actually had to shield her eyes from its brilliance. Slowly, the glow started to die down and Nori uncovered her eyes. "Mahal preserve us," she muttered under her breath, her eyes widening.

The gem was gone and Thorin appeared to be fully healed, belying the blood and gore that still covered him.

Dwalin rushed back over to them. "Is he healed?"

"I don't know how, but yes. I thought you said you weren't much of a healer," Nori said to Thranduil.

"I am not," Thranduil said. He looked exhausted. "What I have done can usually only be done once in a lifetime by one such as I. Reincarnation does make things more complicated in many ways."

 _Interesting_ , Nori thought. What did "one such as I" mean? Also, she'd never heard of Elves having glowing rock-based healing powers before. Keeping her voice calm, she said, "So you do know that he's..."

"Hrathi reborn," the Elf nodded. "Though I still do not remember exactly what happened or why our city looks like... this." He gestured to the ruins of Dracadelf's market.

Thorin stirred, moaning. All three of them froze, watching to see if he'd regain consciousness. His eyelashes fluttered and then he went still again, breathing deeply and slowly as if he were simply asleep.

Thranduil started to unwind the torn strips of cloak that they'd used to hold the makeshift splints in place on Thorin's arm. After a pause, Dwalin mirrored him with Thorin's leg. They made Thorin as comfortable as they could, pillowing his head on a cloak. 

Thranduil knelt at Thorin's head after rearranging the cloak. "What is his name now?" he asked. "In this life."

"Thorin," Nori said. "Son of Thrain, son of Thror, called Oakenshield."

"Thorin," Thranduil repeated, laying his hand on Thorin's forehead. 

Thorin's eyelashes fluttered and he made a grumpy-sounding noise. Rubbing his hands over his eyes, he sat up without seeing Thranduil kneeling behind him. The Elf's face once again had a disturbingly blank quality about it, almost as if the mind inside the body had gone for a walk without it.

***

Thranduil had startled out of the grey haze of memory to find that Nori and her companion had placed Hrathi's unconscious body on the pavement several feet away. They had staunched Hrathi's wounds and crudely wrapped his broken arm and leg. Thranduil had lost time again, though not much of it this time, he thought.

A simple examination of the attachment between Hrathi's soul and his body had revealed that what Thranduil had feared the most was true. His love would die within the day without the help of a great healer. Thranduil was no great healer, but he did have one thing that he could use. One thing that he had hoped never to use again, for giving away his Heart once had been bad enough. 

What of the consequences? Would he be returning Hrathi the Conqueror to the world? Thranduil loved him hopelessly even as Hrathi mercilessly expanded his empire across the lands of Men, but could he live with himself if he put such power in the hands of a tyrant again?

He had asked the Dwarf woman her opinion as a sop to his conscience, but in the end, the decision was inevitable. Thranduil would love his Dwarven King until Melkor returned from beyond the Door of Night and the world ended to begin anew.

One of the most fiercely guarded secrets of Dragonkind was that their Hearts had magical powers. A dragon's Heart was not the fleshy organ that pumped blood through its body. It was a gem, about the size of a peach, which glowed and shimmered with its own internal light. The Heart could bring back a living creature from the brink of death--but there was a catch. It gave the holder of the dragon's Heart great power over the dragon, and that link would only be broken with the holder's death.

Thranduil felt the link reestablish itself as it sank into Hrathi--not Hrathi, Thorin Oakenshield--into his chest. It felt like the world had just come to life around him after walking through grey shadows for so very long. With the link came a flood of memories, drowning him.

***

_Before he had joined his father and brother on the battlefield, Thranduil had foolishly thought that warfare was glorious. He had thought that somehow the nobility of their struggle against the forces of Sauron would make the war seem like one of the glorious tales of the Elves in ancient Beleriand fighting the War of Wrath._

_He had been a foolish youth who had never before seen war. Now he wished that he never had, if it would mean that his brave, shining older brother still drew breath. Laerduin had been valiant, a great warrior, their father Oropher's pride and joy. Now Laerduin lay broken on the barren plain of Dagorlad._

_Nothing could bring the dead back but the Valar. But vengeance, oh vengeance would be Thranduil's._

_He had always been the bookish one, the scholarly prince who faded into the shadows of his golden older brother and his twin Merillael, beautiful Merillael whose hair shone like mithril in the sun. She was bookish in her own way, but his sister preferred the lore of history and literature while Thranduil preferred the lore of magic._

_He had devoured the tomes on magic in Oropher's library as a mere child, then spent the next five hundred years hunting down any lore that he could find. Tomes of Elvish magic first, of course. The lore of the Dwarves was heavily shrouded in secret, but he managed to get his hands on one tome that had been translated into Quenya in the First Age. However, their stone and metal magic held little interest for him. When he had exhausted those sources, he thought to investigate what the brutish, short-lived race of Man had written on the subject._

_In the almost illegible scribblings of a half-mad hermit, he found the ancient rites that the hermit claimed would transform a Man into an animal form. The hermit wrote that all Children of Ilúvatar had an aspect of their spirit which was animal in nature. Using the rites the hermit described, one could awaken that animal spirit and undergo a complete transformation into a great, powerful animal form, with the conscious intelligence of a Man. The hermit called those who had performed this rite "skinchangers."_

_The hermit had apparently never considered whether the rite of transformation would work on an Elf as it did on a Man, though Thranduil could think of no reason why it wouldn't. Elves and Men were both Children of Ilúvatar, after all._

_He dismissed it as the ravings of a madman, at first, and yet he was never quite able to put it entirely out of his mind. To fly above the earth on his own wings in the form of a great falcon or eagle--what would that be like? Or to range across the trackless earth as a bear or mountain lion? Thranduil never doubted that his form would be only one of the noblest of beasts. He was a prince, after all._

_Thranduil collected the items needed for the rite, but never followed through with it. He felt foolish for even contemplating following the instructions of some mad hermit. He did have the thought, though, that it could be a useful advantage on the battlefield, as well as finally proving that he was just as worthy a warrior as his brother. So when he went to join his brother and father at war, Thranduil brought the tome and ingredients along with him. Just in case._

_Thranduil lived to regret that decision._

_The hermit had written that it was difficult to control the transformed body at first, but that it could be done by a disciplined mind. Thranduil had scoffed when he read that. An Elven prince certainly had a more disciplined mind than a half-mad Man; he should have no difficulty whatsoever. That might have been true of a normal skinchanger transformation--but not of Thranduil's._

_For when he performed the ritual, angry and heartbroken over the death of his brother, Thranduil's animal form was not that of a falcon or an eagle, a bear or a mountain lion. No, his form was that of a dragon._

_In that first shock of transformation, Thranduil lost conscious control over the mind of the dragon, and its instincts took hold. The first instinct of a dragon was naturally to kill and destroy. The anger of the dragon was absolute and inescapable, for it did not care whether the creatures it killed were good or evil. It only cared for the slaughter._

_Thranduil remembered the battle later only in scattered images. Elven archers burning alive as the dragon retaliated for the sting of arrows against its flanks. Orcs crushed beneath its feet and between its jaws. Men fleeing from the dragon's flaming breath. He counted it a blessing that he could not remember most of it._

_When Thranduil wrested control of his own mind back from the dragon, he found himself high in the snowy wilderness of the southern mountains, far from any sign of civilization. And there Thranduil remained, until a stubborn, angry Dwarf stumbled into his cave home and changed everything in an instant._

***

Though she knew it wasn't very fair of her, Nori felt extremely amused by the confused look on Thorin's face as he looked around them at the shadowy ruined city. 

Dwalin's grin near split his face as he exclaimed, "Thorin!"

"Dwalin," Thorin replied, smiling broadly. Dwalin swooped in and bear-hugged him, the two of them pounding each other's backs. Thorin pulled away to hold him at arm's length and said, "Good to see you still among the living! We were greatly afraid for your life after the rockslide."

"I could say the same for you, you daft bastard! What were you thinking, riding some ancient contraption down into a lost city? You almost got yourself killed!" Dwalin scolded him. 

Nori winced, expecting Thorin to be angry, but he laughed and said, "It can't have been that bad. I feel perfectly well." He stood up and nodded to Nori. "Mistress Nori," he said politely.

"Lord Thorin," she said.

Thorin looked up at the ceiling constellations, muttering to himself, "So that's where the light came from." He turned around in a half-circle, staring up at the ceiling, and when his eyes dropped he saw Thranduil for the first time.

"Thranduil," Thorin said, reaching his hand out to the Elf seemingly unconsciously.

The Elf blinked as if startled out of a reverie. "Hrathi," he breathed.

Thorin crossed to Thranduil and drew him into a kiss. They were almost exactly the same height while Thranduil knelt, Nori noticed while trying not to stare at the deeply passionate kiss between a Dwarf and an Elf. They kissed as if worlds had ended since they were last together. 

She supposed that in a way, they had.

***

Thranduil had fought free from the grey haze of memories once more. It frightened him that his grasp on the present time seemed so tenuous today. 

Hrathi stood before him, his hand outstretched. Thranduil breathed his name aloud, almost unable to believe that Hrathi was there. He had been gone for so long. ( _Was this another dream?_ ) He felt real though, his thickly muscled form, the scratchiness of his beard that had once felt so alien to Thranduil, the scent of stone and fire. Most importantly, he could feel the other half of his soul, returned to him. 

"My love," he murmured against Hrathi's lips.

***

Nori winced as she watched Thorin abruptly break off the kiss and step away from Thranduil. Thorin was shaking his head as if he'd been stunned by a blow. "I am not Hrathi," he said roughly.

Thranduil's face, which for a moment had something soft and longing about it, hardened immediately as if covered by a mask. "I am aware," he said coldly as he climbed to his feet. "Hrathi has been gone for... for..." The Elf paused and shook his head, blinking hard. "Wait, what has happened? Where is Hrathi?"

Dwalin touched Nori's elbow and signaled in Iglishmiek, _Circle behind if need to knock him out_. Nori gestured in agreement and casually stepped back and started to circle around them. If the Elf became violent, the safest thing for all of them would be to knock him out quickly.

Thorin, who apparently had not realized that the Elf was seriously unstable and not exactly well-moored in present-day reality, said bluntly, "Hrathi is dead."

"He's dead," Thranduil said, his eyes going distant. "Hrathi is dead." His eyes focused on Thorin suddenly and in a horrified voice, the Elf asked, "Oh, Eru, what have I done?"

***

_The city of Men was burning. Fire licked its way up to the thatched roofs, then blossomed into terrible flowers of destruction. Changing back to Elven form, Thranduil watched the last survivors flee across the great bridge over the Greyflood. Sorrow weighed down his heart and made him feel much older than his relatively few centuries._

_Hrathi finished off a guardsman and returned to Thranduil's side. His grin was a bright white slash in the blood splattered across his face. Wiping his sword off on the tunic of a corpse, Hrathi said cheerfully, "The forces of Arnor flee before us. The kingdom is in chaos as the old king's sons fight among themselves. We will sweep across southern Arnor like a wildfire through the grass."_

_A rushing sound filled Thranduil's ears. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest. Slowly, glacially slowly, Thranduil turned to face his lover, his King. Thranduil's own voice echoed strangely in his ears as he said, "You swore that this would be end of it. You told me that once we took the outpost at Tharbad, you would be done. We would rule from the White Mountains to the Greyflood and you promised me that you would be contented with that."_

_Hrathi took Thranduil's hand in his and kissed his palm. Blood smeared from his skin onto Thranduil's fingers. "Even weakened, Arnor is a threat to our kingdom," Hrathi said. "Dracadelf cannot be secure with such a strong empire to our north. You know that everything I do is to make our kingdom secure, my love."_

_Thranduil took a deep breath, steadying himself. "And when will our kingdom be secure? After you have conquered the north, will you then turn your eyes to the south? Will Gondor need to fall before Dracadelf is secure?"_

_Hrathi paused and his eyes flickered to the side. Thranduil felt the answer in his soul._

_"No," Thranduil whispered. His voice strengthened as he said, "No. I will not be the anvil upon which Middle Earth is broken. I will not slaughter any more innocents in Dracadelf's name."_

_Hrathi shook his head. "My love--"_

_"No!" Thranduil shouted. "I cannot, I will not, I--" Without his conscious decision, Thranduil began to shift, his hands becoming claws, his skin silver scales. In an instant the immense bulk of a fire-drake crouched where but a moment ago had stood a slender Elf._

_Hrathi stood his ground as the dragon towered over him. "My love, be reasonable. There are hard decisions that one must make in warfare, you know that."_

_But Thranduil was beyond reason, beyond thought, beyond language, for there was no Thranduil anymore. There was only the dragon. The dragon was a creature of pure instinct, and that instinct was to kill and destroy everything in its path._

_The first thing in its path was Hrathi Stonefist._

***

The Elf had frozen in place again, still staring at Thorin in horror. Thorin asked, "Thranduil?" 

Thranduil did not respond. Thorin turned questioningly to Nori and Dwalin.

"He's been doing that every so often," Nori said. "He should be fine in a few minutes. As fine as he gets, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked.

"He's mad as a weasel," Dwalin said bluntly. "Doesn't know what year it is or that Hrathi Stonefist's been dead for two thousand years."

"That is sad news indeed," Thorin said, looking troubled.

"Speaking of news, what news from the outside world?" Nori asked. "How did you get here? Where is everyone else? What happened with the scarred woman after the rockslide?"

"That is a long story, one which at times I can scarcely believe myself," Thorin said. He proceeded to spin them a tale of strange surface-dwelling Dwarves, a cowardly and dishonest ruler, and their captivity. He finished with the story of how he had come to be lowered into Dracadelf.

"Aye, good work. Now you're as trapped as we are," Dwalin said.

"We must find a way back to the surface," Thorin said. "Just before I descended, word came to the Thegn via a Raven that an army of three hundred Orcs and twice as many Wargs were gathering at the foot of the mountain. The Thegn ignored the warning because he is a short-sighted fool. We must return, or else I fear that the rest of our Company will be lost. Even if they are rallied, the Thegn's forces are not very many. Perhaps fifty Dwarven warriors that I saw. Not enough to hold the valley indefinitely."

Nori's breath caught. She thought of little Ori with her slingshot, trying to take on an army of Orcs and Wargs.

"Three hundred Orcs and six hundred Wargs against fifty Dwarves?" Dwalin asked. "Unless the valley has some damned impressive defenses, that small of an army can't hold out against that for long, even with the three of us and the rest of the Company helping."

Thorin nodded. "They will need something more to turn the tide of victory. Perhaps we can hold out for long enough for them to get messages to their allies, if they have any. Or perhaps we can retreat down into the lost city as a last resort..." He trailed off thoughtfully.

Behind Thorin, Nori saw Thranduil shake his head as he came back from wherever his mind roamed when it went absent.

Thorin sighed and said, "Hrathi Stonefist's dragon certainly would be of great use against this army."

Nori was the only one who saw the Elf's eyes widen as he turned his head toward them. She saw the bright, impossible flare of gold in his eyes as he said brokenly, "No. Not again. I cannot do this again--"

Then there was a shimmer in the air like heat haze and where Thranduil had stood a moment ago, now stood a great silver dragon.

"Dragon!" Nori screamed. 

Dwalin and Thorin jerked around and gaped at the impossible creature. The dragon drew a long breath that sounded like an immense forge bellows. Nori and Dwalin turned to run. They had to grab Thorin's arms and pull him along because he wasn't reacting, just standing there staring at the dragon with blank eyes.

They dodged into the maze of ruined buildings. Behind them there was a terrible whooshing noise, like the sound of oil being thrown on a fire but much louder. Thorin started to move of his own accord, seeming to come back to himself.

"We should head for the secret door!" Dwalin shouted.

"Dead end!" Nori yelled. "We won't make it through that rockfall."

Dwalin demanded, "Also, am I going mad or did that Elf just turn into a dragon?" 

"If you're going mad, we both are," Nori said.

"I know another way out," Thorin said, stopping suddenly and then taking a little side alley.

"How do you know your way around?" Nori asked as they slowed down to catch their breath.

"I don't care," Dwalin said. "Thorin, if you know a way out, lead on!"

From behind them came a terrifyingly loud roar. The ground trembled underneath their feet as they started running again. Thorin was directing them towards one of the sides of the market they hadn't explored yet, Nori noticed. How did he know his way around Dracadelf?

She spared a glance behind them and saw that the dragon might have been a little slow to get started, but it was quickly gaining on them. Its enormous strides covered the ground faster than the Dwarves could run.

"It's gaining on us!" Nori yelled. "Run faster!"

They ran full-out until their lungs were burning, and yet the ground-shaking thud of the dragon's footsteps grew ever nearer. Nori heard the bellows-drawing noise again that preceded the dragon's fire.

"This way!" Thorin shouted, darting down a side street. Just in time, for the dragon's fire immediately scorched the street where they had been running.

Behind them they heard an immense crash. Nori looked back and saw that the dragon had tried and failed to take the corner as quickly as the Dwarves had. That gave them a little breathing room.

"Go down the great corridor on this side of the Grand Market," Thorin panted as they ran. "Take the first right, go up one level, go left, follow that corridor to the end, and you'll find a locked side gate. Mistress Nori, you can pick locks, yes?"

"Hasn't been a lock created that I can't pick," Nori said with entirely justifiable pride.

"Why are you telling us this?" Dwalin demanded, wheezing. "You don't mean to escape with us?"

"No, I do not," Thorin said as they turned another corner seemingly at random. "I will buy you as much time as I am able."

The footsteps of the dragon were nearing once more.

Thorin stopped about halfway down an alley from a main street. He clasped arms with Dwalin, saying, "Go now, my old friend. May Mahal guide your axe and bless your hammer."

Dwalin shook his head in denial. "No, Thorin. I won't leave you."

"I order you as your King. Go now." Thorin smiled sadly as he said, "The rampage of the dragon is my fault, Dwalin. I can't allow you to die for my foolishness."

Dwalin made a noise of protest as Thorin walked away from them toward the main street.

Thorin waited in the middle of the street, unmoving, as the footsteps of the dragon neared. Nori pulled at Dwalin, saying, "He's sacrificing his life for us. Don't make him sell it cheaply."

Dwalin looked anguished, but slowly allowed Nori to pull him away as he kept his eyes trained on Thorin.

As the dragon neared, Thorin said something quietly that they couldn't hear at this distance.

***

"I am sorry, my love," Thorin said. "I used you poorly, when I was Hrathi. I would make amends for that if I could."

The dragon stopped advancing and cocked its head to the side. The mannerism looked very strange on a giant, fire-breathing reptile.

"All I can tell you is that I am not Hrathi now. I am Thorin." He smiled wryly as he added, "Though I must admit that Thorin Oakenshield does have his own faults. But I swear to you, I will never use you as cruelly as Hrathi Stonefist did."

The dragon snorted. Thorin could feel the wave of heated air washing across his body. "I made an ill-considered remark about using the dragon as a weapon, and I apologize for that. Until you changed forms, I did not remember what Hrathi had made you do as the dragon."

Thorin dropped to his knees in the street and bowed his head. He hoped that Dwalin had obeyed his order to run, because Thorin had absolutely no idea if this gamble would work. 

"Before Mahal and all seven fathers of the Dwarves, I hereby offer my life to you in recompense for the wrongs that I have done you. My life is yours to take or spare as you please." After the traditional words of the Oath of the Guilty, Thorin added, "If you spare my life, I swear that I will spend the rest of this life trying to make up for what I have done to you." 

He held his breath, waiting for the dragon--for Thranduil--to make up his mind.

After a moment, he heard the sound of light footsteps across the cracked pavement. A thin, long-fingered hand stroked the side of his face and then urged him to lift his head. Craning his neck, Thorin looked up at Thranduil.

The Elf's face was unreadable. His pale blue eyes searched Thorin's face as Thranduil asked, "The rest of your life, hmmm?"

"So do I swear by our maker and all seven fathers of our race," Thorin said.

Thranduil nodded coldly. "I accept your oath. Now get up, you ridiculous Dwarf," he said, rolling his eyes and turning away. "You always were overly fond of dramatic gestures."

Thorin climbed to his feet, saying, "I am not Hrathi."

"I know." There was a hint of a smile at the edge of Thranduil's mouth as he added, "And thank Eru for that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laerduin, Thranduil's brother, is not a canon character. But Thranduil's father Oropher really did die in the Battle of Dagorlad, though it wasn't at the claws of a dragon.
> 
> The working title for this chapter was "Wow, Fated Love Bonds Really Kind of Suck."


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pieces start to move into place.

After being locked back into their prison (a comfortable prison, but a prison nevertheless) the Company gathered around the fountain once more.

"If the news that the Raven brought is correct, then there is an army of Orcs and Wargs readying themselves to ascend the mountain," Dis said.

"Aye," Balin agreed. "They won't move by day, but once night falls they'll move swiftly. I believe they'll attack the valley tonight a few hours after nightfall."

"What can we do, then?" Bofur asked. "We're trapped in here like rats!"

"Master Grimr, you're a wizard," Kili said. "Can you not blast your way out of this prison?"

Grimr had been puffing on his pipe calmly. At Kili's question, he sputtered slightly and said, "Well, I--no, but--oh my, I believe someone is at the door."

Dame Ingrith waited outside the barred door with a large Raven still perched on her shoulder. The two guards who normally stood outside the door were nowhere to be seen.

Dis exchanged a look with Balin. He accompanied her to the door, followed by Fili. "Dis, daughter of Thrain," she introduced herself politely.

"Ingrith, daughter of no one," Dame Ingrith replied, her mouth twisting with displeasure.

The niceties dispensed with, Dis asked bluntly, "How reliable is your Raven's report?"

The Raven clacked its beak sharply. In a rasping voice, it said, "Ravens do not belong to Dwarves. Maybe Dwarf belongs to Raven." It made an odd _toc-toc-toc_ noise.

Dis raised an eyebrow at Ingrith, who sighed and said, "The Raven has an odd sense of humor, but its report is reliable. It's an honest bird."

The Raven fluttered its wings, shifting from foot to foot on Ingrith's shoulder. "Three hundred Orcs and six hundred Wargs. No matter who wins, Ravens eat well tomorrow."

Dis chose to ignore that comment, saying to Ingrith, "Your valley does not have enough men to stand against that large of an army."

Ingrith nodded grimly. "I am aware. My brother, Eindrith, is readying the Marchwardens to defend the entrance to the valley. The entrance can be defended by a relatively small force, but we cannot hold out indefinitely, I fear. Once the enemy breaches the entrance fortifications, we are virtually defenseless."

"So free us," Fili urged, shouldering his way past Balin. "We may only be nine in number, but we're fighters, all of us."

"I wish that I could, but I do not have access to the key. It was difficult enough arranging for a chance to talk to you in private," Ingrith said, glancing nervously over her shoulder opposite the Raven. "I am out of favor with the Thegn. My brother has leadership of the Marchwardens, but the Palace Guard is separate from them and loyal to the Thegn. I am sorry, but I cannot free you."

"Then what can you do?" Fili asked sharply.

Ingrith scowled at him. "I may not be able to free you, but I know where your gear and weapons are being kept, and I know where to find a key to your prison. Your gear and weapons are kept in a storage closet two levels below in the Steward's suite of rooms. The Steward has keys to every door in the palace."

Fili scoffed. "Doesn't do us much good to know where the key is while we're locked in here."

Dis and Balin exchanged a look and she could tell he was thinking, as she was, of the Hobbit. Bell had demonstrated already that she was good at sneaking around, and she had a reasonable excuse as a palace page for being almost anywhere in the palace.

"Dame Ingrith," Dis said formally. "Tell me why we should trust you." The Raven clacked its beak sharply and turned its head to train one beady, black eye on Dis.

Ingrith gave the question due consideration before replying, "Because you know that everything I have done, I have done for the sake of my homeland. If the valley is overrun, there will be no one left to continue our sacred duties."

"And by sacred duties, you mean feeding the dragon," Fili said. Dis gave him a scolding look. Honestly, while she understood not trusting Ingrith, Fili's dislike of her was beginning to interfere with negotiations.

"You do not understand anything," Ingrith said to Fili. "The situation is much more complicated than you think."

"I think you're feeding a dragon like it's some kind of pet," he said. "Or did I misunderstand that part?"

"My people are not simply feeding some random dragon who happened to get stuck in our ancient city," Ingrith growled. She took a moment to compose herself and then turned back to Dis, saying, "We don't have time to argue about this. I'm not sure how much longer the guards will be gone."

"I am trusting you with the life of a child who is under my protection," Dis said. "If you betray us or harm her in any way, I will hunt you down, take your braids, and kill you. Understood?"

Ingrith looked highly insulted. "I would never harm a child," she said stiffly. "I give you my word on that."

"There is a new page in the palace. A very short, young girl with blonde hair. Tell her that Lady Dis sent you and give her the word "Bellflower" as proof."

Ingrith nodded. "I know which page you mean. Very well, I will find her. You believe that she can retrieve the key without being seen?"

Dis chuckled. "She snuck her way into your palace and successfully masqueraded as a palace page, did she not?"

"Indeed," Ingrith said. "Ready yourselves. We will free you by nightfall if we are successful." With a respectful nod, she strode away down the corridor. The Raven's wings fluttered briefly as it balanced on her shoulder.

Dis shook her head at Fili. "Remind me to have Balin give you further lessons in diplomacy." Balin said nothing, but she read the amusement in his eyes. Fili looked mulish. He was smart enough, though, to know that this was not the time to talk back to her.

They returned to the Company and Dis explained the situation. She advised them to rest this afternoon and conserve their strength for the battle. 

"I'll bring word to Tauriel," Kili said eagerly. 

"Very well." Dis suppressed a sigh as she watched her son not quite run to find the Elf. She really hoped that Tauriel was just being kind, because the things that Dis wanted in this world did not include an Elf as a daughter-in-law.

"Master Grimr, a word, please," she said, gesturing for the wizard to join her away from the rest of the group. "Tonight would be a good time for you to prove that you are of some use to us. Or is your magic simply smoke and mirrors?"

The wizard's seemingly perpetual look of mild amusement at the world faded away, revealing a steely resolve beneath. "All is proceeding as it should be, Lady Dis," he said. "A great tragedy will be resolved and, if we are lucky, a future tragedy will be prevented."

"How much of what has happened is due to your meddling, wizard?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

He shrugged, the mask of perpetual mild amusement dropping over his face again. "A wizard does not meddle, my lady. He simply... suggests."

 _Really, what did I expect?_ Dis thought as she glared at him. "Well, when the time comes, could you "suggest" some of those Orcs to death?"

Grimr bowed. "Your wish, my lady."

Growling under her breath, Dis stalked away.

***

Dwalin was not one to run away from a fight. Ever. But he was also bound to obey his king's orders. Ordering him to run was an unfair trick for Thorin to pull on him, Dwalin thought.

Nori led the way as they ran through the city. Dwalin kept expecting to hear the horrible "whoosh" of the dragon's fire, but the city had been eerily silent since they'd left Thorin behind. He desperately wanted to stop and check if Thorin was all right. It was tearing him up inside to run for safety while Thorin, his best friend, his king, walked into the dragon's maw.

Dwarves had been made strong though, made to survive any hardship, and so Dwalin ignored the persistent urge to turn back and kept running.

They found the great corridor and took the first right as Thorin had said. The hallway was faintly lit with the same blue glow as the corridor that led into the throne room. They took the stairway at the end up one level, still at a run. Dwalin paused at the top of the stairs, bent over with his hands on his knees, panting harshly. "Give me a minute," he wheezed.

Nori was breathing hard, but the run didn't seem to have exhausted her as it had Dwalin. "All right," she said. "A couple of minutes, then we'd better get going again. I don't know how far that dragon's fire would reach along this corridor if it followed us."

Dwalin thought back to the dark day that Erebor fell. "Dragon's fire can reach bloody far," he said. "Let's get moving again."

They slowed to a jog, worn out from the flat-out run earlier. The corridor they followed was long and straight with regular cross-corridors. Nori looked nervous as she glanced down the side corridors. "What?" Dwalin asked. 

"Still no corpses," she said. "I figured maybe the dragon ate everyone who fell in the Grand Market, but it couldn't possibly fit down this corridor. What the fuck happened to everyone?"

Dwalin shook his head. Grimly, they continued on until they reached the gate Thorin had mentioned.

Dwalin leaned gratefully against the wall as Nori examined the lock. "The metal isn't corroded," she said. "I wonder what kind of alloy they used? Even steel should be corroded after two millennia."

Dwalin grunted. "Probably a mithril alloy."

Nori's eyes widened. "Seriously? How rich were these people?"

"King Hrathi's mithril mines were the stuff of legend," Dwalin said. "You were selling the map to his lost kingdom, didn't you look into him at all?"

Nori shrugged absently as she pulled a small metal flask out of a belt pouch. "Yeah, I knew he was rich and all, but there's "rich" and then there's "uses mithril for his door locks."" She screwed a spout onto the uncapped flask and carefully poured a small amount into the lock. "That'll need to sit for a few minutes. Turns out that even mithril alloy locks get grimy after a few millennia."

Dwalin slid down the wall into a seated position. "You carry oil with you just in case you need to pick locks," he said.

Nori nodded. "Also wire cutters, a set of lockpicks, emergency candles, and enough waybread to last for three days. Not to mention all the knives. Always prepared," she grinned, spreading her arms out.

Dwalin smiled back at her, feeling hopelessly fond of his thief. "Come here, lass," he said, expecting her to sit on the floor next to him. Instead she sat straddling his legs, her arms around his chest and her head resting on his shoulder. Surprised, it took Dwalin a moment to wrap his arms around her.

"You're more comfortable than the floor," she mumbled into his jerkin. 

Wordlessly, Dwalin buried his nose in her hair, smelling under the sharp tang of fear sweat the scent of bread, cinnamon, and something less definable that said "Nori" to him. He wanted suddenly to clutch her to him and never let her go. If they'd been a little slower or a little less lucky in the market, they'd be dragon food right now.

"You're sniffing me, aren't you," she said. Dwalin hummed deep in his chest. She snorted and said with great affection, "My grumpy badger."

Dwalin sighed. "As long as I'm _your_ badger, I guess I'll live with it."

She raised her face then and they kissed, slowly and sweetly, taking their time with it. Dwalin wrapped her long braid around his fist, not pulling, just enjoying the feel of it. She shifted closer to him and suddenly the kiss wasn't slow and sweet at all, just desperate hands clutching at each other as they tried to devour each other. 

She shoved a hand between them and scrabbled at the ties to his trews. Dwalin tried to untie hers at the same time, and then it was a confusion of hands getting in the way of hands until finally his were untied (Dwalin sighing in some relief as his cock was freed from the constrictive cloth) and her trews were unfastened, one leg of them shoved hastily off over a boot.

She kneeled up over him, rubbing the head of his cock against her cunt for a few agonizingly frustrating moments, then slowly slid down his length. "Mahal," Dwalin groaned. Nori's face was transformed with pleasure and pain as she eased her way down. "Too much?" Dwalin asked, his hands flexing on her hips.

She shook her head firmly. "Just need to... oh," she moaned as she finished sliding down all the way. Nori paused for a few seconds and then started moving, excruciatingly slowly.

They kissed again, Dwalin fucking her mouth with his tongue at the same speed that she rolled her hips. She scratched her nails from the bald crown of his head to the nape of his neck and Dwalin broke the kiss, panting hard. He bit his lip so hard that he tasted blood, trying to hold back the pressure he could feel building in his bollocks. It had been so long that he knew it would be over quickly, but there was no way he'd leave his woman unsatisfied. 

He let go of her hip and slid his right hand over her belly, feeling the muscle jump under his touch. His hand flat on her belly, he slid his thumb down through her rough thatch of hair and into the silky wetness below. Finding her pearl, he rubbed his thumb in a circle around it, watching Nori's eyes close and her head tip back as he found the right pressure and speed. Her moans went deep and breathy, then high and desperate as he continued to circle his thumb around her pearl. Dwalin hung on to his self-control desperately until he felt the first rhythmic squeezes as Nori reached her peak. Then he let go with a roar of satisfaction, his vision going white as he came.

They held onto each other desperately as their breathing gradually slowed. Nori shifted eventually, and Dwalin groaned as he felt himself slide out of her slippery wet cunt. "One of these days we're going to do that in a bed, lass," he said. "And we're not going to leave the bed for at least a day except to do the necessary."

"Wouldn't we get hungry?" she asked teasingly, sitting back on his legs. 

"If I were hungry, I'd lick honey from your skin, and so be satisfied," he said. Her eyes darkened with lust. Dwalin was beginning to think about a second round when there was the distinct sound of a throat being cleared somewhere nearby. 

Dwalin pushed Nori safely behind him then leapt to his feet, drawing his axes.

"It is only I," Thorin said, moving cautiously toward them from the direction of the city. 

Dwalin sheathed his axes and barely remembered to re-fasten his trews before enveloping Thorin in a bear-hug. "What happened?" Dwalin demanded. He'd thought Thorin surely doomed.

"The dragon--Thranduil--and I... came to an agreement," Thorin said.

"How do you "come to an agreement" with a dragon?" Nori asked. She had straightened her clothing and looked completely composed. The only sign of what they'd been doing a few minutes ago was the kiss-bruised red of her lips.

"He changed back to Elven form and we discussed the situation in a civil manner," Thorin said. Dwalin noticed the little twitch to his left eye that had meant ever since they were Dwarflings that Thorin was hiding something.

***

"We had better depart now or else we will not catch up with Dwalin and Nori before they find their way out of the mountain," Thorin said.

Thranduil's eyes went opaque. His voice was carefully controlled as he said, "You do not intend to stay here with me."

"I can't," Thorin said. "Even now the Orcs may be marching on the valley where my family and companions are being held."

"I see," Thranduil said. He sat down on a flat-topped chunk of broken marble, folding his hands in his lap calmly. Thorin noticed for the first time how thin and frail Thranduil looked compared to Hrathi's memories of him.

"Come with me," Thorin said. "I hate to think of you all alone down here. You don't need to fight if you would prefer not to."

Thranduil dropped his hands to his sides and curled his fingers around the edge of the stone. Lifting his chin imperiously, he said, "I cannot leave Dracadelf."

"I know a way out," Thorin said. "You can leave. Just come with me."

Thranduil was beginning to look a little wild-eyed. "You do not understand. I _cannot_ leave."

Thorin paused and decided that now was not a good time to press Thranduil. The last time the Elf had gotten agitated, he'd turned into a dragon and chased them halfway across a ruined city. "All right. I need to leave now, but I promise that I will come back after the battle so that we can talk again."

"Do try not to be as late as you were the last time," Thranduil said with an attempt at a sneer, but Thorin could see the cracks in the Elf's facade of arrogance.

Thorin hesitated. In this life, he had barely met Thranduil, but in his head there were memories of over a century spent as the Elf's husband. The part of him that was Hrathi was furious at Thorin for leaving Thranduil again. 

Feeling distinctly awkward, Thorin stepped close enough that his legs bumped against the Elf's knees and lifted his hand to cradle Thranduil's cheek. "I swear that I will return to you soon," Thorin said.

"Very well," Thranduil said coldly. His tone of voice was belied by the way that his eyes closed as he turned his head to press his cheek more fully into Thorin's hand.

Thorin hesitated, but the part of him that was Hrathi demanded that he not leave Thranduil without a goodbye kiss. He leaned in and carefully pressed his lips against the Elf's, feeling horribly uncomfortable until Thranduil's lips relaxed and he returned the chaste, gentle kiss.

Thorin eased away, meeting Thranduil's gaze wordlessly. Anything else he could think of to say seemed either cruel or untruthful, so he left without another word, not looking back as he walked away into the ruined city.

***

"Too bad he didn't come with you. A dragon could come in right handy in a fight," Dwalin said.

"Sure he would. If you're certain that he'd know friend from foe on the battlefield," Nori said, not looking up from picking the lock to the gate. 

"Please don't ever mention using the dragon as a weapon to Thranduil," Thorin said. "Not if you value your life."

"So noted," Nori said. "Ah! There we are." There was a clicking noise and the gate slid up noiselessly into a recess carved into the stone of the mountain. "Impressive engineering," she added cheerfully. "I didn't think that was actually going to open."

Thorin moved to take the lead as they passed through the gate. What lay beyond was a tunnel that was clearly natural in origin, although the stone had been smoothed by hand. The faint blue lighting ended at this point. There was enough daylight reflected from somewhere down the tunnel that they could see without a candle. 

Dwalin dropped back to walk next to Nori, taking deep breath and enjoying the mixed scents of the two of them and sex.

"By the way," she said lightly, "don't shove me out of the way of a fight again. The fact that we're betrothed doesn't make me any less of a warrior."

 _Oh, shit,_ Dwalin thought. Since he wasn't a complete idiot, he had already figured out that the more cheerful Nori sounded in a conversation like this, the angrier she actually was. "I apologize, Nori," he said carefully. "I do know how dangerous you are in a fight. It was instinct, not lack of respect for you as a warrior."

"And so you won't do it again, right?" she prompted.

Dwalin paused, wrestling with himself. "I can't swear that I will not do it again," he admitted.

"That does not make me well pleased," Nori said tightly. "I am not a helpless damsel to be protected."

Dwalin thought fast. "Tactically speaking, though, I'm a front-line warrior and you're..."

"A sneak?" she suggested.

"I was going to say a scout, an infiltrator. You're lightly armed, fast, and yes, you're also sneaky. If I move in front of you, that just gives you a chance to circle around and hit our opponents from behind." Dwalin waited a bit anxiously to see if she'd buy that.

Nori made a thoughtful noise. Her mouth curled up at the corner as she said, "I know you're just saying that to try to get out of trouble, but that's actually a sound strategy, and sneaky, too. I think I'm rubbing off on you."

"You can rub off on me any time you want to," Dwalin said.

"Cease your flirting, you two. We're nearing the entrance," Thorin ordered.

They paused just before the last bend of the tunnel, past which they could see brilliant sunlight. Nori gestured in Iglishmiek, _I will scout_ and Thorin nodded. She moved silently, crouched low to the ground, as she eased around the bend and disappeared.

Dwalin's hands flexed on his axe handles as he waited for Nori to return. It was an excruciatingly long several minutes until she reappeared, gesturing for Thorin and Dwalin to follow her back down the tunnel until they were far from the entrance.

"Well?" Thorin asked.

"The tunnel opens up high on the side of the ravine that leads to the entrance to Dracadelf," she reported. "There are Warg scouts below, so I couldn't risk moving away from the tunnel mouth. I did spot smoke from campfires at the foot of the mountain."

Thorin nodded grimly. "That agrees with the Raven's news. Any idea how large the army is?"

She shook her head. "I can't say with any certainty from this distance, though that amount of smoke probably means a lot of campfires."

"How many Warg scouts?" Dwalin asked.

"I saw at least half a dozen," Nori said grimly. "They're patrolling the ravine."

"Mahal's bleeding asshole," Dwalin swore. A few Wargs would be manageable, but there was no way they could get rid of half a dozen without alerting the rest of the Wargs that they were up here.

"The Orcs and Wargs will almost certainly move up the ravine at nightfall," Thorin said. "That gives us an opportunity. Mistress Nori, how are you with a bow?"

She shrugged. "Reasonably proficient, though it's not my first choice of weapons," she said. "Why?"

Thorin looked positively cheerful, for him. "I know where Dracadelf's armory is."

***

"You there, page," a strong, clear feminine voice called down the hallway.

Bell turned around and froze as she saw it was Dame Ingrith. Had Bell's ruse been discovered? Should she run?

Dame Ingrith raised her hands, showing she was unarmed, as she came closer. She did not have a Raven on her shoulder as she had in the throne room earlier that day. "Lady Dis sent me, child," Ingrith said. "She told me to say "Bellflower" to you as a sign that I am telling the truth."

Bell bit her lip. No one but the Company knew her name was Bellflower. "All right," she said hesitantly. "What do you want?"

"But why would you want to help my friends escape?" Bell asked after Ingrith pulled her aside to an empty room and explained why she had been looking for her.

"Because the Thegn is too blind to see anything but his own ambition and greed. He won't realize that we need to defend our home until the Orcs are already at our door. Any warriors that I can scavenge up to aid in the defense will help."

It made sense, and Bell couldn't see any way that pretending to help them escape would benefit Ingrith. Also, Bell had been in the crowd in the throne room and had seen the confrontation between Ingrith and the Thegn for herself. "All right, I'll trust you," she said.

"You will not regret it, I swear," Ingrith said. "The Steward holds all of the keys to the palace. Your friends' weapons are in a storage closet in the Steward's suite of rooms. We may not be able to retrieve their weapons, but Lady Dis seemed to believe that you would be able to sneak in and steal the keys without being caught."

"I'm not so sure," Bell admitted. "I'm good at hiding, but I'm not invisible. Can we wait until after he goes to bed?"

"No good," Ingrith said, pacing back and forth. "That won't give us enough time to get to the entrance to the valley. If we don't hold the entrance fortifications, we'll be overrun."

Bell frowned. "Could we knock him out?"

"That actually gives me an idea," Ingrith said. "The Steward is over-fond of wine and has a reputation for indulging at lunch. I have a bottle of Dorwinion wine left. He won't be able to resist it and it has a kick like an oliphaunt. Do you think you could arrange to take his lunch tray to him?"

"Sure," Bell nodded. "And I have an idea about how I can retrieve the Company's weapons at the same time."

Her friend among the palace pages, Helgi, was sweet but generally incurious. Bell was able to switch their duties without him asking any awkward questions. Pushing a wheeled cart laden with covered dishes, Bell knocked on the Steward's door.

"Enter!" the Steward called from within.

Bell pushed the wheeled cart down a short hallway. At the end of the hallway she found a main room much like Dame Ingrith's, except that the Steward was seated at a desk strewn with papers instead of a small table. She spotted the keychain fastened to his belt--it looked like it held a few dozen keys, at least.

The Steward cleared a spot on his desk and gave her an absent-minded smile as she transferred covered dishes, a wine glass, and the bottle of wine to his desk. "Ah, young Bell, wasn't it?" he asked. "How are you settling in?"

"Very well, sir," Bell said with a curtsey. "The Thegn had a bottle of Dorwinion wine sent special in recognition for your excellent service."

The Steward looked pleased, lifting the bottle and examining its label. "Well, that is a generous gift indeed! It's good that Cook sent it with you--some of the older pages might have been tempted to try a tipple," he said with a wink. "Thank you, Bell. You may go."

"Sir," she said with a curtsey. He was already pouring a glass of wine. 

Bell honestly felt bad about tricking the Steward. He was a kind man and seemed good at his job, even if he was a little overly fond of wine. But the Company's freedom was riding on this, so she only pretended to leave the suite, opening and closing the door to make it seem like she had left. The bottom half of the wheeled cart was a cabinet, just big enough for a Hobbit to hide in. She left the wheeled cart just inside the door, as if she'd forgotten to bring it with her when she left, and hid in the cabinet to wait.

The wait was excruciating, not only because the Steward turned out to be an absent-minded hummer. She could hear him humming along with the rustle of turning paper and the clink of silverware as he ate while still working. She also heard the sound of a few more glasses of wine being poured. After the second one, he started to sing while he worked, though sadly he had no sense of pitch. Bell waited through the off-key renditions of a few ballads (one of them so filthy that her ears burned) until the full effect of the Dorwinion wine took effect and the Steward's singing trailed off into gentle snoring.

Moving as quietly as she could, Bell returned to the Steward's office and found that he had fallen asleep slumped over on his desk. Bell carefully freed the keychain from his belt. She tried to keep the keys from clinking together as it moved, but she couldn't manage it.

The Steward stirred in his sleep and muttered. Bell froze, not even daring to breathe until he settled again.

She unlocked the door to the storage closet and found the Company's weapons piled near the front. Glancing nervously at the Steward every few seconds for fear that he would wake, she transferred the weapons to the cabinet at the bottom of the wheeled cart and then pushed the cart out of the suite of rooms. She didn't breathe easily until she closed the door silently behind her.

Dame Ingrith was waiting for her in the empty room they'd met in earlier. 

"I have the keys and all of the Company's weapons," Bell reported.

"Good work," Ingrith said, smiling. The smile made her look a lot less scary, Bell thought.

"How are we going to get the door to the prison unlocked?" Bell asked. She'd had some time to think about their plan while waiting for the Steward to pass out. "There are always two guards on duty watching the door."

"That is true. But there is a secret entrance to the floor where they are keeping your friends."

"A secret entrance to a prison?" That didn't sound very likely to Bell.

Ingrith looked sad. "That floor of the palace was never designed to be a prison. When I was a child, that was where my grandmother's husbands lived."

"Husbands? Plural?" The way Ingrith had phrased it made it sound like more than one husband at a time, but surely Bell had misunderstood her.

"Grandmother had seven husbands," Ingrith said, smiling as if thinking about fond memories. "She always told me that she thought it would have been greedy to have more husbands than days of the week. She could have easily taken a dozen husbands, though--not only was she the Thegn, she was a famous beauty in her youth."

Bell was still reeling. "She was married to seven men _at the same time?_ "

"I agree, it was a bit excessive. How would you get anything done with all of those husbands wanting your attention?" Ingrith appeared to have completely missed the source of Bell's shock. 

"Gracious," Bell said faintly.

Ingrith led Bell, still pushing the wheeled cart, to a disused-looking area of the palace. As they walked, she explained quietly, "Grandmother wanted a way for her husbands to visit her without going through the main hallways, so when she built that floor of the palace for them she added a secret passage that led to her wing of the palace. Very few people ever knew about the secret passage, and by now I may be the only one who still remembers it besides my father--I mean, the current Thegn. He doesn't use my grandmother's wing of the palace. Since her death he's closed it off and pretends it doesn't exist."

There was clearly some more family drama behind that, but at this point Bell was afraid to ask for more details.

One of the keys on the Steward's keychain fit the lock to Ingrith's grandmother's wing of the palace. Inside, it was dark and dusty. The furniture had been covered with sheets and the windows had heavy curtains drawn across them. They left the cart hidden on the ground floor and climbed up two flights of stairs. 

At the top of the stairs, Ingrith led her into an enormous bedroom of such opulent luxury that it made the rest of the palace look like a country Hobbit's smial, even with dusty sheets covering the furniture. The bed was so enormous that Bell actually blushed just looking at it. _Seven husbands!_ she thought giddily.

Ingrith looked around the room, shaking her head with a fond but bittersweet smile. "Oh, Grandmother. She was one of a kind. Too bad the current Thegn doesn't take after her."

"Does he have more than one wife?" Bell asked.

Ingrith looked appalled. "Of course not! Why would you ask that?"

Bell decided it was a good idea not to ask any more questions after that.

Bell didn't even see the outline of the secret door until Ingrith pressed a few pieces of carving around the fireplace and a narrow passage opened up beside it. The secret passage was filthy with dust. She supposed it probably hadn't been used since Ingrith's grandmother passed away, however many years ago that had been.

At the end of the secret passage, Ingrith pressed on a seemingly random piece of stone and a door swung open silently. Bell cautiously peeked out around the edge of the doorway. 

Ducking back inside the secret passage, Bell said, "It's clear."

"Good. Do you think you can find Lady Dis without being spotted by the guards?"

"Easily. The guards don't really enter this wing unless they're accompanying the pages while they bring in the meals. In fact," Bell said, her eyes widening, "I think the entire company could escape after dinner and no one would notice until breakfast. The guards spend most of their evenings playing dice games."

Ingrith smiled. "I like how you think."

***

Legolas leapt gracefully from his horse's back to a tall, lightning-blasted pine, climbing swiftly to the top and training his eyes to the northeast. The company of a dozen Elven warriors drew to a halt next to the tree, awaiting his orders.

"Prince Legolas?" his second-in-command asked.

"Orcs," Legolas answered briefly. Once he had descended the tree, he added, "A great army of Orcs is camped at the foot of the pass."

Legolas knew his mother had sent along his second-in-command, a seasoned veteran, to keep him safe. That did not make him feel any less impatient when the older Elf advised, "We should swing far to the southwest so that we do not run into their scouts."

"That would be excellent advice, if I intended to to try to avoid the Orcs," Legolas said.

His second-in-command blanched. "My Prince, we should not engage--"

"We are here to find my foster sister. All the traces of her journey that we have found point in the direction of this pass. I do not intend to charge the Orc army head-on, but we are going to follow them and try to get around them if we can. I have sworn to find Tauriel and bring her home safely." Legolas stared down his second-in-command until the other Elf bowed gracefully in acquiescence.

"Set up camp," Legolas ordered. "We will move at dusk."


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is the calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a non-serious threat of self-harm.
> 
> Khuzdul translation:  
> Atkât = silence

Most of the Company made a swift escape from the spare bedroom where the meeting with Ingrith had taken place, leaving Ingrith, Dis, Balin, and Fili behind. Dis massaged her temples, feeling the worry and stress building into a headache.

"I will return to the secret door and await you on the other side, Lady Dis," Ingrith said, nodding to her.

Fili crossed his arms, asking, "Are we really just going to let her go back through the secret door with no guarantee that she'll come back?"

"Do you really think that I would go through all this trouble just to betray you?" she demanded.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't predict what a bunch of dragon-feeding--"

" _Atkât_!" Dis shouted. She couldn't quite manage the impressive room-silencing roar of her brother, but she did fairly well, judging by the two silent, wide-eyed stares she received. Ingrith looked almost peculiarly shocked, in fact. "Both of you are going to go wait for us on the other side of the secret door. _Together_. No arguing."

Fili huffed. "But--"

" _No_. Go," Dis commanded, maintaining eye contact until Fili slunk out of the room behind Ingrith.

Alone finally, Dis sighed and shook her head at Balin. "Children."

He chuckled. "You should get some sleep. I'll go sit in the courtyard so that the guards don't realize anything is going on."

"I couldn't sleep. Not now. I'll sit and have a smoke with you."

The courtyard was very pleasant, with the gentle sound of the fountain and the bright glow of sunlight from the skylights far overhead. "It does make a great deal more sense that this was meant to be a place for the Thegn's husbands to live, not a prison," Dis mused. "There are too many windows. If Dame Ingrith hadn't come through with her escape plan, I would have suggested breaking out a window and climbing down on bed sheets."

"Multiple husbands," Balin said, puffing on his pipe disapprovingly. "That's more of an Orocarni thing, isn't it?"

"Well, Dame Ingrith and the Thegn do have a bit of a Blacklock look to them. Not that it matters," Dis shrugged. "You must admit it is a practical solution to the issue of having more men than women. I'm not saying that I'd ever do it myself," she said when Balin looked askance at her.

"I've never felt the urge to be married at all. The thought of dealing with that many people in a marriage..." Balin shook his head. "Just one spouse sounds like entirely too much work to me."

"It's not the spouse that's the work, it's the children. There were times when I would have been happy for a few more pairs of hands."

"I see your point," Balin chuckled. "Those boys are a handful."

"That they are." Dis smoked for a few minutes in silence, then added, "Except that they're not truly boys anymore, are they? Even Kili has grown up on this journey. To a certain extent."

Balin chuckled. "Aye, that boy of yours is going to make your hair go as white as mine is, haring off after Dwalin's lady thief and now the Elf."

"I don't know whether to hope that the Elf is just humoring him or not. On the one hand, his heart would be broken again, on the other hand..."

"It will all work out in the end, lassie," Balin said comfortably. "No sense worrying about it. We might all be dead tomorrow."

"True, though I think our chances aren't as poor as all that."

"I would feel a good sight better about our chances if Thorin and Dwalin were here. We're down our two best warriors."

Dis smiled at him. "There are a few warriors left among us."

"Old warriors," he said. "And those two rascals of yours. They're fine warriors, Dis. They'll do the line of Durin proud."

"If only Vili could have lived to see them grown."

"To those we've lost," Balin said. He drew a flask out of his pocket and uncapped it, taking a sip and then handing it over.

Dis savored the smoky burn of fine whiskey. "To those we've lost," she repeated.

Smoking and occasionally handing the flask back and forth, they waited in comfortable silence for nightfall and everything it would bring.

***

Ori had hardly been able to contain herself through the meeting between the Company and Ingrith where they had hammered out the details of the plan for that evening. Across the small room from her, Bell appeared to be having a similar problem focusing on the discussion. 

After the meeting, Lady Dis advised them to get as much sleep as they could manage before dinner, because they would need to be ready to move out directly after the meal.

Ori met Bell's eyes as the meeting broke up. Turning to Dori, she told her older sister, "I'm going to go catch up with Bell."

Ori had never before been so pleased with the effect that being involved with Grimr had had on her formerly smothering older sister. Instead of interrogating her about where they were going, Dori just smiled and waved her off with an admonition not to talk for so long that they missed the chance to catch up on their sleep.

Ori thought that Dori might want to take her own advice, but she didn't say anything. Over Dori's shoulder, Grimr winked at her, smiling mischievously. 

Ori practically skipped over to Bell's side, taking her by the hand and leading her to a bedroom that no one had claimed yet. They had barely closed the door behind them when Ori hugged Bell to her so fiercely that the Hobbit flailed and said, "Can't breathe!"

"Sorry!" Ori said, releasing Bell and backing away from her, wringing her hands. They were so close in height, Bell being only three inches shorter than her, that sometimes Ori forgot that Hobbits weren't as sturdy as Dwarves.

"I don't mind if you hold me tightly, as long as I can breathe," Bell said, going up on her tiptoes to give Ori a quick kiss. "Let's go lie down."

Ori smiled. "I like that plan."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Bell kicked off her boots with a look of disgust. "I don't know how you can wear those all the time. They feel horrible." 

"But you looked so cute as a Dwarf," Ori said teasingly. Bell huffed at her, trying not to smile.

They arranged themselves on the bed with Ori lying on her back while Bell cuddled up to her side with her head resting on Ori's chest. "I was worried about you," Ori said, running her fingers over Bell's hair, still in Dwarven-style braids.

"I was all right, but I missed you," Bell said, squeezing Ori's waist. "I kept seeing interesting things and turning to tell you about them and you weren't there."

"It was really hard not to talk to you when you were pretending to be a page," Ori said. "I almost slipped up once or twice."

"I could tell," Bell said, giggling.

Ori sighed, feeling absolutely contented. "Let's never be apart again."

Bell propped herself up on her elbows, looking worried. "You know that I have to go back to the Shire after all this is over," she said, the tone not quite a question.

"Then I'll go with you," Ori said. "I don't care where we live, I just want to be with you."

"Your sisters would never let you run off with me," Bell said. "You know that."

"I'm fifty," Ori said mutinously. "That's old enough to make my own decisions."

Bell looked shocked for some reason. "You're fifty? Ori... how long do Dwarves usually live?" she asked hesitantly.

"Two hundred and fifty, usually, if we don't fall in battle earlier. Why?"

"My grandfather, the Old Took, is one hundred and twenty-seven," Bell said. "He is the longest-living Hobbit on record. Usually Hobbits live to ninety to one hundred years at most. I'm twenty-seven. Generously speaking, I probably have about seventy-five more years left."

Ori felt like she was going to be sick. "But--but that's barely longer than the lives of Men." Her breath caught at the sheer unfairness of it.

There were tears in Bell's eyes as she said, "Ori, I'll grow old and die before you reach middle age." She sat up and looked away, composing herself. "Maybe we should break it off now before you get really hurt," she said quietly.

"No!" Ori sat up and grabbed Bell's shoulder, turning her so that they faced each other. "No," Ori repeated, trying to sound calm. "Don't think that leaving me will spare me pain, because it won't. I love you, Bell, and I want whatever time Mahal gives us together."

Bell was crying openly, tears running down her cheeks. "I love you," she gasped. "I want to be with you for the rest of my life."

"Then we will be," Ori said firmly. She pulled Bell into her arms, holding her tightly as Bell buried her face in Ori's neck. "If we are only given a short time together, then we will make the most of it."

"Are you sure?" Bell asked, clinging to her.

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life," Ori said. "I will live under a hill with you and count myself the richest of Dwarves."

"I don't care where we live, as long as we're together," Bell said, and they kissed and cuddled until all their allotted time for resting was quite used up.

***

"So when we leave the palace, you'll come with us, right?" Bouncing a little in excitement, Kili grinned at Tauriel. "You can use my bow if you want, I'll switch to using my swords."

Sitting straight-backed on the bench beside him, Tauriel folded her hands in her lap and shook her head. "I cannot escape with you."

Kili's eyes widened. "But if we don't defend the valley, we'll all die!"

"I am sorry, Kili," she said, her hand hovering over his arm and then dropping back into her lap without making contact. "I gave my word to the Thegn that I would not try to escape. I cannot go with you."

He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the tangles until they hurt while he tried to think of a way around her oath. He couldn't ask her to break her oath, that wouldn't be honorable. But maybe... "Oh," he said, starting to grin.

"What?" she asked. A tiny wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows.

"What if you don't _try_ to escape? No, hear me out. What if it's not your choice? What if we force you to escape?" Kili rooted through his pockets until he found a length of thin rope and dropped it on the bench between them. He looked at Tauriel expectantly.

"I cannot go along with that. It would be dishonest," she said. "There is no way you could force me to escape."

"Really?" Kili asked as he dropped a knife out of his wrist-sheath into his hand. _Oh, thank Mahal, that actually worked,_ he thought. Nori had taught him the trick and helped him modify a standard knife sheath to be worn on the forearm. He'd been practicing diligently, but he still couldn't manage the trick every time.

Tauriel looked between the knife and the rope skeptically. "I'd have that knife out of your hand before you got within a foot of me."

"What if it's not you I'm threatening?" 

Her head tilted to the side. "What are you talking about?"

Kili pressed the knife to his own throat. "I'm not threatening _you_."

Tauriel's eyes went very wide. "You wouldn't," she said uncertainly.

"Better surrender before my hand slips," he said, pressing the knife tip harder to his throat and feeling a trickle of blood start as the tip just barely broke his skin. "You know how fragile non-Elven bodies are."

Her eyes tracked the line of blood sliding down his throat. Kili very obviously tensed his forearm and she gasped, "No! Don't! I surrender!"

"I accept your surrender." Kili lowered the knife and wiped the tiny amount of blood on the tip off on his sleeve before resheathing it. "Now hold out your wrists so that I can tie them."

She frowned at him. "Why? I've already surrendered."

"I don't want there to be any question that you're escaping willingly." Kili grinned at her.

She sighed and held her hands out. They were very thin and fragile-looking compared to sturdy Dwarven hands, and Kili felt oddly clumsy tying the rope around her wrists. His cheeks burned as he fumbled with the ropes. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Kili finished tying the ropes and sat back.

Tauriel's ear-tips looked pink, he noticed, and wondered if that was the Elven equivalent of blushing. "Do you need healing?" she asked, biting her lip as she looked at the wound on his neck. "I'm not very good at it, but I'll try."

"It's fine," Kili said, rubbing his hand across his neck and coming away with a tiny smear of blood. "See?"

"You could develop wound fever," she said in a dire tone of voice.

Kili squinted at her. "You know that Dwarves aren't really that fragile, right?"

"Oh." She folded her hands in her lap, managing to make the move look elegant despite her bound wrists. "Of course I knew that."

Kili laughed. "You don't know much about Dwarves, do you?"

"Well, when would I have learned about them?" she asked. "I had never met Dwarves before I came here. There aren't any in Mirkwood."

"Haven't you ever been anywhere else?"

She shook her head. "I've lived in Mirkwood all my life. The first time I left was when I traveled south from Mirkwood to here." 

"Isn't that something," Kili said, settling comfortably on the bench with his shoulder almost touching hers. "I'm actually more worldly than you are."

Tauriel sighed and moved restlessly, settling with her shoulder pressed firmly to his. "I'm only six hundred years old." 

It really sounded like she was pouting. Kili looked over at her surreptitiously and smiled to himself. Six hundred years old or not, she was definitely pouting.

***

"Your grandmother was the Thegn?" Fili asked, looking around the dusty but still luxurious bedroom.

Ingrith nodded. Crossing to a window, she twitched the curtain aside a few inches to look out. "It's all gone to weeds now, but this room used to overlook her garden. It was beautiful." Her light brown skin glowed like amber in the light from the window.

"So, when the leader of the soldiers told us that you were only a soldier and prepared to die, that was just a bluff, huh? Since you're actually the Thegn's daughter." Which would make her a princess, he thought, or whatever you called the daughter of a Thegn.

"I'm not anyone's daughter," she said bitterly, still looking out the window. "Not any more." She turned to face him as she said, "Eindrith--the leader of the soldiers, my brother--wasn't bluffing. I would die to protect my home."

Fili crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, asking, "What's so amazing about this place? I mean, the valley is nice and all, but you can't do any mining or live under the mountain due to your little dragon infestation."

Her dark eyes flashed as she snarled, "You understand nothing, and yet you think yourself capable of judging that which you do not know anything about. You are a fool."

"Fine," Fili said. He pulled the dusty sheet from the sofa in front of the massive fireplace. Sitting down on the sofa, he looked back over his shoulder at her expectantly. "So explain it to me."

She released the edge of the curtain, letting it fall back into place and filling the room with perpetual twilight again. The bedroom felt very still and strangely intimate as she sat down on the other end of the sofa.

"I cannot tell you the sacred history of our city." She held a hand up as he started to object. "But I can tell you a story, a legend."

"All right." Fili laid down on his back on the sofa with his fingers laced under his head, almost touching her thigh. He fully expected to get an elbow to the face as he asked, "Tell me a bedtime story?"

She glared down at him. "If it'll make you be quiet for a while." Fili grinned at her innocently. She rolled her eyes at him.

Ingrith's voice became melodic and measured, the voice of a storyteller, as she began to speak.

_In unnumbered years past, in a land now lost in the mists of time, a great Dwarven king ruled a city hidden under the highest mountain peak. From the hidden city, his armies swept down across the plains and conquered the lands of Men. Men and Dwarves from far and wide paid tribute to the King and bowed to his rule. His empire grew ever stronger in wealth and power, but the King was never happy, for he longed to find his One, the other half of his soul._

"So far I'm failing to see what this has to do with feeding a dragon."

"Just be quiet and let me tell the story."

_One day, while the King was traveling alone in the mountains, he encountered a great silver Dragon. The King was not afraid, for he swung his axe with the strength of twenty Dwarves, and his skin was as tough as mithril plate._

"That seems highly unlikely."

"It's a legend, all right?"

_The King drew his axe and prepared to battle the beast to the death as the Dragon drew breath to release a torrent of flame against him. And it all might have ended tragically right there, except that at that moment their eyes met and the King and the Dragon realized that they were two halves of one soul. "But how can this be?" the King asked. "You are a Dragon and I am a Dwarf. We can never be together. Surely Mahal would not be so cruel."_

_The Dragon agreed that there must be a way for them to be together. And so they went on a quest and traveled the lands for seven years, enduring much hardship and sharing many adventures, until they at last found the secret of transforming the Dragon. When they returned to the city under the mountain, the people discovered that the King's Dragon could take the form of an Elf._

_"It's not perfect," the King said, "but it's a good deal better than trying to make love to a fifty foot long, fire-breathing lizard."_

"You're making shit up. That line can't possibly be part of the legend."

"Who is telling the story?" Ingrith asked, flicking him between the eyebrows with a finger. "Now shut up and let me finish."

"Fine," Fili grumbled, shifting so that his head was resting on her thigh, his arms crossed over his chest. "This still isn't convincing me that your people aren't totally mental, though."

Ingrith shoved him off the sofa.

_The King and his Consort, the Dragon-Elf, ruled over his empire for many decades, expanding its reach over the lands of Men and making the hidden city under the mountain ever more prosperous. The Dragon-Elf was greatly beloved of the people, for while their King was a great ruler and warleader, he had been hard and cruel without the other half of his soul. Now that they were united, the King was a strong, but just and kind ruler, and the Dragon only rarely felt the urge to eat entire herds of sheep._

"You made that part about the sheep up. Can I get back on the sofa now?"

"Only if there's no more commentary from you until the story is done. You're not as clever as you think you are."

"Oh, I'm pretty clever."

"Mmm-hmm," she said skeptically. Just for that, Fili laid down with his head on her thigh again.

_All was well in the kingdom until one dark day when the King was cut down on the battlefield, dying in his beloved Dragon-Elf's arms. At the moment of the King's death, the magic that had allowed the Dragon to take Elven form was broken. Maddened by grief, the Dragon went berserk, leaving a trail of destruction behind him as he returned to the city under the mountain where he and his beloved had ruled side-by-side._

_Thousands of Dwarves died that day as the Dragon killed indiscriminately, beyond rational thought in his grief-maddened state. The Dwarves of the city under the mountain fled to the surface and locked the front gates behind them so that the Dragon could never escape. They settled on the surface above the lost city, leaving the Dragon to its grief. Many hoped that in time the Dragon would starve to death._

_But there was one wise and brave Dwarven lass who had a vision that someday their King would return to them. So she ventured into the ruined city under the mountain and found the Dragon where it lay weeping on its bed of gems and gold._

_"Why do you trouble me?" the Dragon asked. "Leave me here to die. My King is dead."_

" _I cannot let you die. I have had a vision that someday the King will return, and when he does, he will need you."_

_The Dragon roared and spread its wings, trying to frighten her, but she was steadfast. She would not give up and at last she convinced him of the truth of her vision. They agreed that the Dragon must remain hidden until the King returned. And so the Dwarves of the lost city have protected the Dragon's secret from that day forward, knowing that one day the King would return and their city would rise again._

Dropping out of her storytelling voice, Ingrith said, "That brave Dwarven lass became the first Thegn of Dracahafen. My many times great grandmother."

Fili thought about it for a second and then said, "Not a bloody thing about that story made any sense."

Ingrith made a disgusted noise. "I don't know why I bothered. Go away, I want to take a nap."

She was gorgeous when she was angry, Fili thought, with her eyes narrowed and her high cheekbones flushed red. Even the scar cutting down the side of her face just made her look attractively dangerous, like she might kill him as soon as fuck him. Speaking of which... "You know, there are other ways we could relax before nightfall."

Time seemed to stop for a second as she stared at him. Then:

"You are so Mahal-damned annoying," she snarled, tearing at his clothes.

"Yeah, and you're a dragon-feeding fanatic," he said, shoving a hand down her trews.

"I really hate you."

"The feeling is so mutual."

And that was the end of talking for a while.

***

Dori woke from a light doze as Grimr entered the bedroom they'd been using. She watched him move around the room for a few minutes as he took his boots off and shed his outer clothing. "How is Nori?" Dori asked as she rolled onto her back.

Slipping into bed beside her, Grimr said, "She's healthy. I wish I could tell you more, but that's as much as can I pick up from our connection at this distance."

"Thank Mahal that you have that connection, though," she sighed. "I would have been frantic by now without it. As long as Nori is alive, there is hope that we can rescue her."

Grimr rolled on his side facing her and started to slide his arm over her midsection. "Oh," he said in a surprised tone, his hand hovering over her lower belly.

"What is it?"

He wrapped his arm around her and said soothingly, "Nothing to worry about, jewel of my heart."

"You, sir, are a Wizard," Dori said, sitting up and frowning at him. "You do not make a surprised noise about something having to do with my body and then tell me it's nothing."

"It's really nothing to worry about right now, dearest," he said, patting her hand. "We should rest before the evening comes."

She snorted. "I know very well that you don't actually need to rest."

"True," Grimr said. "But you need to get regular rest, particularly now."

"Why particularly now?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. "What makes _now_ any different, and what does that have to do with something surprising having to do with my lower... belly... Wait. No," she said as the pieces started to fall into place. "That's not possible. Are you saying that I'm _pregnant_?"

"It's too early to say," he soothed. "It's barely even a spark."

"Oh, Mahal," she said, flopping down on her back and staring up at the ceiling. "I am entirely too old to become pregnant." She scowled as a thought occurred to her. "You told me that Wizards aren't really whatever race they look like. You said that you're something entirely different even if you look like a Dwarf. How can I be pregnant if that's true?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry, my love, I didn't think it was possible. Apparently Melian having a child wasn't just a fluke or the result of the Valar interfering."

"The _Valar_ interfering?" Rolling over to face him, Dori grabbed Grimr by the shirt collar and hissed, "You are going to explain yourself fully and not skip over any important facts, or I swear I will rip you limb from limb."

"Jewel of my heart, I understand how you feel, but I cannot tell--"

"If I really am pregnant, you are the father of my child and that child is half whatever you are. You are going to _tell me_ what that is."

Grimr met her eyes for a long moment and then nodded and began to tell her. By the end of it Dori was white-faced and clutching her stomach.

"Do you mean to say that I am pregnant with a _half-Maiar_ child?" she demanded.

"Yes," he said cautiously. 

Dori closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. "If I manage to survive the battle tonight, you are not flitting off to Valinor again, or wherever it is that you go wandering off to. You are staying put and bloody well helping me to raise this child!"

"Do you really want me to stay?" he asked. "Even though you know I'm... not actually what I look like?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "What you look like is the Dwarf-shaped being I'm in love with who happened to get me pregnant. _Yes,_ I want you to stay."

Grimr smiled helplessly at her. "Dori, daughter of Kori, I swear on the Valar and all that I hold sacred that I will love you, build a life with you, and help you raise our child for as long as you will have me."

"That's settled," she said briskly, even though happiness was bubbling inside her chest. "Don't think you're getting out of it, either, you... fluffy-winged servant of the Valar."

"I don't really have fluffy wings," he protested. "Your language doesn't actually have the words to describe what I look like in my true form," he said when she raised her eyebrows at him inquiringly.

Sudden worry squeezed Dori's heart. "Will the Valar allow you to stay with me?"

Grimr caught her hand in his and raised it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles and then turning it over and kissing her palm. His eyes were very blue as he said, "For your love and our child, I would defy the Valar themselves if they tried to deny me."

Dori's breath caught. The fierceness of his true heart still caught her off guard, hidden as it normally was under his facade of perpetual quiet amusement. "Then Grimr of the Maiar, I swear on Mahal's hammer and all that I hold sacred that I will love you, build a life with you, and help you raise our children for as long as you will have me."

His mouth dropped open as he stared at her. "Did you just--?"

"You thought that you were the only one who knew the archaic form of the Wedding Oath?" she asked. Dori did not often smirk (she mostly left that to Nori), but she was definitely smirking at him in that moment.

"Yes, yes, yes," Grimr said, kissing her on the lips between each repeat.

Needless to say, they didn't get much sleep that afternoon.

***

Thorin placed his armful of crossbows on the floor of the small cave at the end of the tunnel and wiped his forehead, resting for a moment. He placed his hand on the wall of the cave, smiling to himself as he remembered stumbling into it half-frozen and being told by a snooty Elf to go find his own cave. Little had he known...

Thorin shook his head, blinking the memory away. That had happened to Hrathi, not Thorin.

Dwalin walked in carrying several quivers of crossbow bolts, the straps hung around his body wherever they would fit.

"What happened down there with the dragon?" Dwalin asked as he piled the quivers on the floor. "I mean what really happened, not "we discussed it like civilized creatures" or whatever your explanation was earlier." Done with the quivers, he looked at Thorin expectantly.

They started walking back along the tunnel as Thorin said, "I told you earlier that I only claimed to be Hrathi Stonefist reborn so that the Thegn would send me to Dracadelf, but that's not entirely true. During this journey, I have been having memories of a life I never lived. I didn't truly believe it until I saw Thranduil with my own eyes and recognized him from my dreams. I am Hrathi Stonefist reborn."

Dwalin's eyes narrowed. "Wargshit," he said.

Thorin sighed. "I know it sounds ridiculous."

"You're not Durin the Deathless, Thorin," Dwalin said. "I carried you home from the tavern more than once when we were lads. Durin the Deathless has not sicked up on my boots," he said, pointing at his feet.

"I'm not claiming to be Durin," Thorin said with a half-smile. "I don't know how it is possible, but I know that I was Hrathi Stonefist. I remember his life. I remember growing up as Hrathi, I remember becoming king of Dracadelf, and I remember being married to Thranduil for over a hundred years."

Dwalin gave him a frankly incredulous look. "You've got to be joking."

Thorin spread his hands out. "I didn't want to believe it either. But I can't deny that I remember it, both the good and the bad. Speaking of which..." He chewed uncertainly on his bottom lip for a moment. "You know that my grandfather was gold-mad?" It was a rhetorical question, since by the end everyone in the kingdom had known.

Dwalin nodded wordlessly.

Slowing to a stop and leaning against the wall, Thorin said, "I have always worried that the gold-madness would arise in me eventually. It is a sickness that festers at the heart of the line of Durin. Now, however, I have a new fear." He paused, dreading saying the rest.

Squaring his shoulders and tucking his thumbs into his belt, Dwalin said, "You know you can tell me anything, Thorin."

"Hrathi Stonefist was a conqueror," Thorin said, feeling the words like stones piled on his chest. "He expanded his kingdom mercilessly across Dunland and Enedwaith. The only reason that history does not remember him as the conqueror of the North is that he was killed after his forces took the outpost at Tharbad. He destroyed his marriage and abused his husband's trust in order to expand his kingdom, but he didn't care what it cost. All that he cared about was power."

"And you're worried that you might repeat that pattern in this life."

"Yes." Thorin stared at the chisel-marks on the tunnel floor.

"Then we'll watch you," Dwalin said. Thorin looked up, surprised. "Balin, Dis, and I. We'll watch you for signs that something's going wrong, and we'll slap you upside the head if we need to."

"You are a far better friend than I have ever deserved," Thorin said, clasping forearms with Dwalin and giving him a firm knock with his forehead.

"Ah, you daft bastard, you'll make me cry," Dwalin said, slapping Thorin on the back as they parted. They walked in silence for a while, passing through the gate that Nori had unlocked and then taking several turns in the maze of corridors.

"So this Hrathi Stonefist," Dwalin said eventually. "He conquered the lands of Men? _Above_ ground? And he married an Elf? Are you absolutely certain that he was a Dwarf?" 

"I'm sure," Thorin said. "He had lived much of his life on the surface, though. That is why he built his city in the valley as well as under the mountain. I remember discussing the plans for the city with Thranduil. Every Dwarf who worked on building this city has been dust for almost two millennia, but I remember them building it. I see the ruined market and I remember it filled with life and activity."

"So that's how you knew where the armory is?" Dwalin asked as they entered the large room filled with dusty racks of weapons.

"And the way out of the city, yes," Thorin said, but he could already tell he'd lost Dwalin's attention.

Seated on the ground pouring liquid from a large canister into small glass jars, Nori glanced up and smiled at Dwalin. The expression transformed her face from her habitually neutral, closed-off expression to something sweet and open. Dwalin's entire posture changed as he oriented himself towards her like a flower to the sun. It was a bit sickening, honestly, but Thorin couldn't find it within himself to begrudge Dwalin that happiness. 

All of the survivors of the fall of Erebor knew that happiness had to be grabbed when it came and not left for tomorrow, for there was no way to know if tomorrow would ever come.


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the storm hits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some moderately graphic battlefield violence.
> 
> The term I'm using for Dori's bola-like weapon is "spinning chain," since I can't find an official name for it.

The night air was cold with a brisk wind blowing in from the west, a reminder that summer was nearing its end in the high peaks of the White Mountains.

Dis had been pleasantly surprised by the valley's impressive system of defenses. Those who were decent with distance weapons were given bows and arrows to use and stationed on a battlement above the entrance to the valley. The battlement, carved out of the natural rock of the cliff wall, had been cunningly designed to be virtually invisible from below.

Those who had no skill at archery were stationed in the passages carved out over the narrow, S-curved entrance tunnel to the valley. Kettles of oil were heating over fires, to be dumped through murder holes onto the invading force. A strong gate sealed the end of the entrance tunnel where it opened up into the valley.

For now they were waiting, trying not to fidget too much in the chilly night air. Dis stood with her sons and Dame Ingrith, while Ori, Bell, and Grimr stood a little further down the battlements. The rest of the company lay in wait in the murder hole passages. Dis sighed internally at the way Kili kept sneaking glances past her at Tauriel, standing on the other side of Dame Ingrith. 

"Could you explain something to me, Dame Ingrith?" Dis asked. "Orcs and Wargs do not come together in an army this large for no reason. There must be something that they want, either territory or revenge. Which is it?"

Ingrith's dark hair streamed out behind her as she turned to face Dis. "I am fairly sure it is both, in this case. The current Thegn decided several years ago that Dracahafen needed to expand to the south. One of the effects of our unique situation is that we have become Dwarves who cannot delve beneath our own mountain. The Thegn wanted a settlement from which we could begin to mine the White Mountains for their bounty of gems and gold. Greed led him to order the settlers to disregard the signs that they were pressing into Orc territory."

Strangely, Fili had allowed Ingrith to speak for several minutes without interrupting. Dis glanced over at Fili and noticed that he was studiously looking the other way and pretending not to listen. There was also a suspicious bruise low on his throat. Had they--? Oh, for Mahal's sake, they couldn't have been alone together for more than a few hours. _Children_.

"Eventually, the Orcs attacked the settlement, inflicting heavy losses on the settlers. A rational man would have admitted that Dracahafen did not have the strength to hold a settlement in Orc territory, but the Thegn has always been a greedy, foolish man. He ordered more troops and more settlers to return to the southern settlement. The settlement was destroyed within two years, leaving virtually no survivors."

"That is why your city seems so strangely underpopulated," Dis realized.

Ingrith nodded, a muscle twitching in her cheek. "Indeed. I had spent the last ten years away from my city. To come home and see it looking so empty was... troubling."

"Why were you gone for ten years?" Fili asked.

"I was chasing the old man," she said, nodding her chin at Grimr.

Grimr looked over and smiled at Ingrith. "You were impressively persistent. I thought I lost you in the Grey Mountains."

Ingrith gave him a smile like a wolf. "Oh, you almost did," she said, tracing a finger down the scar on her face. "Left me with a lovely souvenir."

Grimr and Ingrith stared each other down as Fili looked between the two of them uncomfortably. Dis smothered a laugh. Oh, that boy had no idea what he was getting in to.

At that moment, a carefully shielded light flashed from the lookout post on an outcropping of rock half a mile down the ravine. The lookout had spotted the army.

All conversation ceased as the archers watched and waited for the shadowy bulk of the army of Orcs and Wargs to advance up the ravine. 

"Ready bows, hold your fire," Eindrith said quietly.

The sound of three dozen bowstrings tensing rippled across the battlements. Dis kept her eyes on the enemy army, slowly beginning to make out individual shapes in the darkness. 

"Hold," Eindrith repeated, then as the Orcs reached the optimum distance, "Fire!"

Arrows fell from the sky like a black rain of death. Dis grinned in exhilaration as a dark shape fell to her shaft. In full sunlight, she might not be able to hit the side of a mountain, but in darkness there was no equal to Dwarven eyesight, except for possibly that of Orcs and Goblins. Eindrith called for firing at will and Dis sent her shafts into the mass of enemy again and again. 

Orcs and Wargs fell to Dwarven arrows, but still it was not enough. The enemy army reached the opening of the tunnel and she heard shouts of triumph as they breached it followed shortly by screams of agony. That would be the boiling oil pouring down on them from the murder holes.

Still, she knew it would not be enough. The Orcs and Wargs were too numerous. Eventually the defenders would run out of boiling oil and arrows, and then it would be down to numbers, as the Orcs tried to break through the massive gate at the end of the tunnel. They could not bring in a battering ram due to the S-curve of the entrance, but enough creatures battering away at it would eventually break it down, and then it would be down to a desperate defense at the tunnel mouth. 

If they could keep the enemy bottled up there, they had a chance. If the Orcs and Wargs broke through, there was nothing to hold them back from sacking the valley. The Thegn's palace had been built for beauty, not for defense.

Dis kept moving, aiming and firing arrows as quickly as she could. She was so focused on it that she almost missed the first spark of fire arcing over the enemy forces further down the ravine and falling gracefully to the ground. More sparks followed, and wherever they fell, the enemy burned.

***

The cave entrance was only about thirty feet up from the ravine floor. Steep as that side of the ravine was, Nori was well aware that if the Orcs and Wargs charged them, they wouldn't stand a chance.

They let the frontrunners of the army pass them by as they hid behind the waist-high parapet at the cave entrance, hardly daring to breathe. The wind was blowing toward them, a stroke of luck because it meant the Wargs couldn't sniff them out.

The army passed below their perch as Thorin kept a hand up in warning, holding their fire. Nori found the wait excruciating. 

Suddenly there were shouts and battle cries from further up the valley. Nori sighed in relief, bumping her shoulder lightly against Dwalin's. Their plan had hinged on the Dwarves of Dracadelf holding the valley entrance, but there had been no way to communicate with them ahead of time. 

Thorin dropped his arm. Nori uncovered the brazier in front of her and touched the oil-soaked rag tied to the tip of her crossbow bolt to the coals smoldering inside the brazier. The rag caught fire and she shot the bolt immediately, watching the flaming bolt as it arced through the sky and buried itself in the flesh of an Orc. She dropped the crossbow to one side and picked up one from the line of crossbows set up on her other side, the string already cranked all the way back and the bolt set in place, just waiting to be lit and fired. Nori repeated the actions again and again, watching as the oil-soaked burning rags spread chaos on the flank of the army.

Crossbows were powerful over a short distance, with more punch than a standard longbow. However, because the bowstring needed to be ratcheted back mechanically, they were much slower to reload than a longbow. But when you had an entire city's armory at your disposal, that was a simple problem to solve.

Eventually the Orcs figured out where the fire was coming from. Though they shot down the front line of the little squad of Orcs heading up the ravine wall towards them, the ones behind them simply stepped over their corpses and continued on.

Then a flight of arrows rained down from above them, hitting the Orcs with deadly accuracy.

"Archers!" Nori hissed. "You think they're from the valley?"

"Where else could they be from?" Dwalin asked.

They ran out of pre-loaded crossbows soon enough. Thorin had the best accuracy with a bow, so he continued shooting as Dwalin loaded crossbows and handed them to him. With the archers still firing down on the Orcs from above them, Nori felt a lot less worried that they would simply be overrun at this point. 

Nori's aim with a thrown weapon was unquestionably the best of any of them, so she got to do the fun part. She picked up a small bottle filled with viscous liquid and corked with rags, lit the rags, and threw it as hard as she could, aiming for a little clump of Wargs.

The bottle hit the rocky ground and shattered, the liquid inside catching fire as it splashed the Wargs. The Wargs yelped and howled in agony, running blindly and spreading even more fire and chaos among the enemy. She could smell the stench of burnt hair even up where they were perched.

"Beautiful," Nori breathed, lighting another rag-topped bottle.

She took out another four clumps of Wargs and Orcs before the Orcs got wise. A band of Orcs with shields large enough to cover their entire bodies advanced slowly up the slope towards the cave.

Nori hit them straight on with a bottle but the flaming liquid just splashed harmlessly on their shields. Thorin's crossbow bolts couldn't punch through the heavy shields. A few arrows from the archers stationed above them found vulnerable spots and a few of the Orcs fell, but the rest kept advancing. Nori no longer dared to throw flaming bottles at the Orcs for fear that it would do more harm than good.

A shrill whistle sounded from above them and figures ran down the steep slope like it was a flat meadow, crashing into the Orcs' shields and tossing them aside. The new combatants' armor shone golden in the light of the low fires flickering in the brush and dead leaves at the bottom of the ravine.

"Elves?" Dwalin and Nori exclaimed at the same time.

"No way I'm letting them have all the fun," Dwalin said. He picked up the massive war hammer he'd found in the armory. Brandishing the hammer above his head, he headed down the slope, screaming a war cry with Thorin right behind him.

"Fuck," Nori said, looking from the melee below, where Dwalin was laying about him with brutal swings of his hammer, to the crossbows. She wasn't sure how much good she'd do from up here with a crossbow, but they could probably use the covering fire.

"Go," a voice said from the back of the cave.

Nori jumped to her feet, knives in hand, but checked herself as Thranduil stepped into the faint glow of the braziers. 

"I will take this," Thranduil said. A quiver of arrows was slung over his shoulder and he held in his hands a finely decorated longbow.

"You sure?" Nori asked, sheathing her knives. "You're not going to, um..." She mimed dragon wings.

The Elf nodded. "I am sure. Go, I will handle this."

Nori picked up the two short swords she'd liberated from the armory (she preferred knives, but in a fight like this she appreciated having weapons with more reach and weight) and prepared to slip over the natural parapet at the front of the cave.

"Lady Nori," Thranduil said. Pausing, Nori glanced back at him. "I realize there is only so much you can do in a battle like this. But I would appreciate it if you would protect Hrath--I mean, Thorin, if you can."

"I swear that I will protect him if I can, Prince Consort."

With that, Nori slipped out of the cave and descended into a fair approximation of hell.

***

Lugging full cauldrons over to the murder holes and pouring the boiling oil inside down on Orcs and Wargs was an essential part of the defense of the valley, but that didn't make it less than horrifying. Dori kept her eyes focused on the cauldron and tried not to think too much about what she was doing. That proved difficult when agonized screams and howls rose up from below. 

Killing their enemies in battle was honorable. This was something else, even if it was necessary.

Still she kept working, kept herself focused, until she returned to the fires with an empty cauldron and was told they had gone through their entire reserve of oil. She kept her face blank and was careful not to show relief, because the last thing they needed was for the Dracadelf Dwarves to think the Company was craven.

"Go on, they'll be needing you by the gate," the burly Marchwarden in charge of the cauldron crews ordered. Dori followed the flow of Dwarves out of the murder hole passage and down a steep spiral staircase to the flat grassy platform beside the huge gate that guarded the end of the entrance tunnel. 

They could hear Orcs and Wargs battering away at the inside of the gate, but for now it held. Dori waited with the defenders next to Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur. At least Ori was still up on the battlements with Grimr, better than here on the ground. Grimr would keep her safe.

"Quite a party, eh?" Bofur grinned at her and winked. 

She rolled her eyes at him. "Usually my parties don't involve boiling oil." 

"You've got to expand your horizons!"

Dori shook her head, smiling. Only Bofur could manage to be in a joking mood in this situation.

Bombur held his trusty battle spoon at the ready. It sounded ridiculous, but Dori had seen him crush the skull of a Warg with the heavy end of the spoon. Beside him, Bifur clutched his boar spear, his expression distant and his eyes tracking nothing that was in the here and now. Dori had been near him during the Orc ambush at Tharbad, though, and she had absolutely no doubt that Bifur would be deadly and focused in battle. 

The sound of random hammering at the gate changed to a rhythmic battering sound. _Not good,_ Dori thought. Someone was getting the Orcs inside the tunnel organized.

The gate shuddered as the Orcs inside the tunnel slammed against it. On the ground, the Dwarves arranged themselves in ranks with those Dwarves equipped with shields on the front line, backed by Dwarves carrying spears. Bifur was in that line of defense. Dori was in the third line of defense, with Bofur and Bombur. She wished they had some archers with them, but all the archers were needed on the battlements to thin out the Orc and Warg ranks before they reached the tunnel. 

The gate shuddered again, and again, the ominous creaking of the wood growing louder each time. Beside her, Bofur hefted his mattock and bounced anxiously on the balls of his feet. "Hate the waiting, you know?"

"Soon enough," she said.

With a tremendous shudder and a deafening crack, the gate began to give way. Orcs poured through the narrow hole torn through the gate. The first ones through the gap quickly fell to the spearmen but more and more followed. The shield wall was holding for now, but Dori could already see that it wouldn't last much longer. She hefted her spinning chain and waited for the first Orc to come within reach.

***

Nori dodged a Warg's snapping teeth, feeling its foul breath wash across her skin. She gutted it with one smooth thrust of the sword in her right hand and used the momentum from that swing to turn and drive her left-hand sword into an Orc's back before it could swing at Dwalin. The Orc fell, shrieking, and she put it out of its agony with a quick slice across its neck.

There was no time to pause and catch her bearings. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and ducked just in time to miss being beheaded by an Orc wielding a Dwarven battle-axe, no doubt taken as spoils after a past battle. That one needed to die. The Orc was bigger than her and had a longer reach, but Nori had been facing opponents bigger than her all her life.

She waited for it to swing at her again with a heavy blow that could easily have cut her in half. Nori ducked and rolled behind the Orc, hamstringing it on the way by. It collapsed to its knees, bellowing, and she stabbed it quickly in the back before it could recover. Her sword grated against its bone as she pulled back, slowing her down for a crucial second as a Warg came at her from the side.

She barely had a moment to react to the Warg's charge before a shining silver sword arced out of the darkness, stabbing the Warg through the eye socket. The beast fell just short of her as Nori completed pulling her sword out of the Orc's back.

Nori turned, looking for Dwalin. They'd gotten separated earlier when a big pack of Wargs charged them. One-eye over there, bleeding out with an Elven sword in its head, had been the last of the pack.

An Elf with long blond hair retrieved his sword from the Warg's skull. Nori and the Elf nodded to each other civilly in passing.

She found Dwalin and Thorin fighting back-to-back against a circle of Orcs. They seemed to be holding their own, but a little sneaky help would no doubt come in handy. 

Nori ducked past another Elf, moving low to the ground as she hit one of the Orcs encircling Thorin and Dwalin with a strike across the backs of its knees, then a cut across the throat as it fell. It was efficient, fast, and generally didn't give her opponent a chance to hit her, so Nori used that move a lot. It was also considered a dishonorable attack by honorable Dwarven warriors, but Nori had long ago done the math on honor versus staying alive. Staying alive won, always.

The Orcs had seen her now, though, so that move probably wouldn't work again against these ones. Nori kept out of their reach, taking advantage of her far superior speed and agility. Orcs hit like a meat cleaver, but they were slow and generally stupid. It was the occasional smart ones you had to look out for. 

Like the Orc advancing on her right now, ugly as fuck with a spiky ruff on its armor that fairly screamed, "I am in charge here."

Nori feinted left, watching to see if the Orc would be fooled. It didn't take the bait at all, advancing on her while swinging a huge mace in either hand. If one of those hit her, it would pulverize her bones and turn organs into soup.

Nori grinned at the spiky-ruffed Orc and called it an Orcish obscenity (the only Orcish she knew.) The Orc didn't respond at all except to bare its sharp teeth at her in an answering grin. An Orc who had enough self-control not to lose its fucking mind at the slightest insult was worrisome.

Nori circled slightly to the left, trying to lead the Orc onto a patch of unstable rock she'd noticed earlier. It avoided the natural trap easily and continued to slowly advance on her. Nori had the feeling it was playing with her.

 _All right then_ , she thought. Nori feinted again and threw herself into a roll, trying to get a little distance so that she could hit the Orc with a thrown knife. She rolled to her feet, dropped her off-hand sword, and threw a knife straight into the Orc's meaty neck.

It laughed, pulled the knife out, and tossed it contemptuously aside.

"Mahal's furry balls," Nori muttered, drawing one of her long knives with her left hand because she couldn't spare the moment it would take to pick up her dropped sword.

The Orc appeared to have gotten bored with waiting. Swinging a mace in either hand, it advanced on her more rapidly, but unfortunately it didn't charge her. She could have easily rolled out of the way of a charge.

How did Nori end up with the only smart Orc in the White Mountains? Her luck.

Nori tensed to spring. She knew the Orc was waiting for her to dart to either side, so she did something supremely stupid but almost impossible to predict. Gathering herself, she stood her ground until the Orc almost had her within range of its whirling maces. She then leaped _at_ the Orc and propelled herself up and over its body. Landing behind it, she spun and buried her blades in its back before it could turn to face her.

The Orc staggered but didn't fall. It turned around with her blades still sticking out of its back, laughing as it casually swung a giant mace at her. This one she couldn't quite avoid. Nori rolled with the blow, feeling sharp pain radiating from her midsection. That was a cracked rib, maybe two.

 _Balls to this_ , Nori thought as she rolled to her feet. She spotted the blond Elf nearby and ran right past him, hoping the Elf would finish the Orc off. 

"Heads up!" Nori yelled. "Big and ugly right behind me!"

The Elf waited for the Orc to go past and then planted both of his swords in the Orc's back, leaping onto its back and riding the Orc to the ground, then stabbing the Orc a few more times to be sure. It was a beautiful kill.

"Thanks for the assist, Blondie!" Nori panted, grinning at the Elf's sour expression.

Wrapping an arm around her midsection protectively, she retrieved her blades and headed towards Dwalin and Thorin again. There was no shortage of Orcs and Wargs that needed killing, after all.

***

Eventually they ran out of arrows, even with the reserves the Marchwardens had brought with them. "This way!" Eindrith yelled. "We take the fight to the ground and defend the gate!" 

The troop of erstwhile archers shed their bows and started for the stairs down from the battlements. Tauriel was about to follow them when something in the distance caught her eye but she couldn't quite make it out. She stood at the edge of the battlements, peering into the darkness.

"Tauriel, come on!" Kili called, standing by the stairs with his brother looking impatient beside him.

A flaming arrow landed in the middle of the distant melee, lighting the scene up enough that she could see details. "Your uncle is down there," she said.

"What?" Kili's eyes were huge as he rushed over beside her, leaning out over the parapet's edge so far that she worried that he'd tip over. "Where?"

"Right there," she pointed. "There are another couple of Dwarves with him, and--Legolas!" she gasped, seeing her foster brother stabbing two Orcs at once.

"Nori and Dwalin must be with them! We have to get down there!" Kili said.

"There's no way we could make it to Uncle from here. We'd be cut to ribbons," Fili said, keeping a firm hold on Kili's shoulder.

Tauriel scanned the sides of the ravine desperately. She knew there had to be some way to get to the lookout post further down the ravine. "There!" she said, pointing to a thin trail leading from the battlements up to the lookout post. "We could follow that trail most of the way and then climb down the side of the ravine."

"This is a terrible idea," Fili said, but he still followed them onto the trail.

The ravine floor below them was lit by the low flames of burning scrub brush and the occasional flare of flaming arrows shot from the opposite side of the ravine.

"Who's shooting the flaming arrows?" Kili wondered.

"It might be one of Legolas' people," Tauriel said, distracted as she looked for a way down the ravine wall that wouldn't involve broken legs. Finding a somewhat less steep part of the slope, she led them toward it, saying, "I have Elvish rope. I'll fasten it up here and we can use it to climb down."

"Wouldn't that leave it open for Orcs to use it to climb up?" Fili asked as if she wouldn't have thought of that.

"No. It's Elvish rope."

"What's so special about Elvish rope?"

"You'll see," Tauriel said, enjoying how frustrated he looked at that comment.

Once they were all at the bottom of the slope safely, she gave the rope a swift tug and caught it as it obediently fell into her hands. Fili's expression of surprise was particularly pleasing. It was not that she disliked Kili's brother, but he did seem to have the attitude, typical of older brothers, that he always knew best. She got quite enough of that from Legolas, thanks.

"There they are!" Kili said, drawing his swords as he charged across the ravine. Tauriel and Fili exchanged an exasperated look of commiseration and drew their swords as well, charging in Kili's wake.

Tauriel separated an Orc's head from its body and finished the swing by cleaving a Warg's skull. A blur of motion to her side caught her eye and she spun, sword at the ready, to see Legolas neatly stabbing an Orc through the chest.

"Brother! You're late!" Tauriel called.

"You know I'd never miss all this fun," he said, springing off the back of a Warg as it tried to rush him, then impaling it with both swords as he flipped over it. 

Tauriel heard a roar from further down the ravine at the same time that she saw that Legolas had heard it too, freezing in place and lifting his head. "Legolas! Lift," she said, starting her run toward him before he even nodded. She ran at him full speed, leaping at the last minute and letting him push her up further with his hands on her feet as she aimed for a tiny ledge on the ravine wall, steep enough that it was more like a cliff at this point.

Hanging on to the ledge with her fingertips, she strained her eyes to see in the low lighting. As a Silvan Elf, she fared a little better in low-light conditions than a Sindar or Noldor, but it was still difficult to make out what was happening down at the other end of the ravine. Then the wind fanned some burning brush higher and she got a clear look.

Three enormous striped cats rampaged along the rear of the Orc and Warg army. They were easily bigger than the largest Wargs, and pounced upon them like cats upon mice, shaking them in their great jaws before tossing them aside.

"Pards! Three great pards!" she called to Legolas as she leaped down from the cliffside. "The great cats are killing Wargs like rabbits!"

"We may not be doomed after all," he called to her, grinning as he spun around and bisected an Orc charging at his unprotected back.

"I would not count on it yet!" she shouted to Legolas as she made her way across the ravine, dodging Orcs, to where Kili and Fili were fighting back-to-back. "Room for one more?" she asked as she joined them.

"Are you always this cheerful during a fight?" Kili panted, smearing a hand through the blood on his face as he grinned at her.

Tauriel laughed. "After this, I'll take you to Mirkwood and we'll go hunting giant spiders!"

"Sure! Sounds like... fun?" Kili sounded a little uncertain about that.

"It's great fun! You will see!" Tauriel shouted back, and then the Orcs renewed their efforts and there was only time for fighting.

***

Dori was a strong, independent Dwarf woman, but she had to admit to a moment of almost blinding relief when Grimr appeared next to her, followed by Ori and Bell. She would be happier with Ori not in the battle at all, but between Dori and Grimr, they should be able to keep her safe.

"The battlements?" Dori yelled to Grimr as she used her spinning chain to pull an Orc's arm off.

"Ran out of arrows," he said, efficiently slicing a Warg's stomach open. "Thought it'd be more fun down here, anyway." Dori snorted.

That was the last moment of levity for a while. They were doing their best to hold the gate, but the Orcs and Wargs just kept coming and the defenders were badly outnumbered.

A big Orc caught her spinning chain around its gauntleted arm, yanking her toward it before she could let go of her end of the chain. Dori lost her balance, falling toward the Orc's ugly, serrated blade. The Orc grinned, and then blinked in shock as a sword tip poked right through its belly. The Orc fell to the side, revealing Lady Dis.

"Thank you, my lady," Dori said, fighting the urge to bow. 

Lady Dis nodded regally. "Wizard," she called to Grimr, who was just finishing up with his own big ugly Orc. "Now would be a good time for you to prove your worth."

He nodded seriously. "Close your eyes," he said in a normal speaking tone, but Dori heard it as loudly as if he had shouted it next to her ears. Grimr clasped his hands together and raised them in the air, then brought them down sharply.

Dori clapped her hand over Ori's eyes, closing her own eyes just as an enormous flash filled the area. She could see the glow of it through her eyelids, the light was so bright. There was an immense crack of thunder, and then the light flared even brighter and then dissipated.

Dori opened her eyes, blinking against the floating black specks in her field of vision. The flat area in front of the gate was covered in ash. There was no sign of the Orcs and Wargs. Only Dwarves stood as far as Dori could see.

"That won't have reached far down the tunnel," Grimr said. "It's a few minutes of breathing space, not a victory."

"It is more than we had before," Lady Dis said. "Thank you."

Cheering, the defenders began breaking apart ammunition carts for their wood to reinforce the broken timbers of the gate.

Ingrith approached them with her brother Eindrith by her side. He was holding his hand to his side with tellingly blood-stained fingers.

"Grimr Honey-Tongued, you have the thanks of the Marchwardens of Dracadelf," Eindrith said formally.

Grimr bowed his head to him gravely. Dori leaned into him, feeling Grimr's arm wrap around her waist and squeeze comfortingly. Ori and the Hobbit had their heads tilted close together, whispering words to each other that Dori couldn't make out.

Turning to his sister, Eindrith said, "You must ride to the Palace and warn them that we cannot hold the gate much longer."

"The Thegn won't listen to me," she said. "You should go."

Eindrith lifted his hand, showing a bloody gash in his side. "I can't. I wouldn't survive the ride."

Her face paling, Ingrith put her hand on his arm. "Eindrith, no, I can't leave you. Don't ask me to."

"You must," he said. "If the Thegn won't listen then the people will. Tell the servants and the citizens to arm themselves. We may lose the valley but we will go down fighting."

Tears cut streaks through the dirt and blood on her face. "I love you, brother," she said.

"And I you, sister." A Warg's howl echoed down the tunnel. "Go now. Go!"

Ingrith knocked foreheads with him gently. Dashing tears from her cheeks, she turned away, mounting a pony and kicking it into a gallop in the direction of the Palace.

"My people!" Eindrith shouted, turning away from the sight of his sister riding away from them. "We fight this day and we may die this day, but if we do, we die for Dracadelf!"

"For Dracadelf!" the Dwarves shouted back. Dori found herself shouting with them as they repeated, roaring louder each time, "For Dracadelf! For Dracadelf!"

***

Dwalin fought like his feet were rooted in the earth, cutting down Orcs like saplings with great swings of his war hammer. Ignoring the pain from her ribs, Nori danced around him, weaving a bloody pattern with her blades. With the Orcs distracted by the (admittedly very large distraction) of Dwalin screaming Dwarven battle cries, Nori was able to slip in and out, hamstringing here, slitting a throat there. It was hard to tell, down there on the ground in the flickering light of burning brush and smoldering oil-soaked Warg corpses, but they actually seemed to be prevailing against all odds.

Which was of course when it all went to shit.

"By Ungoliant's giant-- _three_ Trolls?" Nori demanded, staring.

Slowly becoming visible in the flickering firelight, three Mountain Trolls, giant, bald and ugly, came lumbering up the ravine. Nori exchanged a look of worry with Dwalin. Trolls were even stupider than Orcs, but they made up for that with sheer size and toughness. 

All three Trolls wore spiked collars and were led by Orcs pulling on chains attached to the collars, with more Orcs whipping them on from behind. A better person might have spared a moment to pity the Trolls, so clearly here against their will. Nori just wondered if snapping their collars would cause them to turn on their masters, or only make them more dangerous.

"We'll take the one on the right," the blond Elf called to them. 

"Thanks Blondie. I guess we'll take the one on the left," Nori replied with a marked lack of enthusiasm. Who would take on the third Troll, lagging behind its two brethren, was an open question.

Nori discovered quickly that Trolls hit like a landslide and didn't appear to feel their weapons as more than mere annoyances. She rolled beneath the swing of a hand bigger than her torso, yelling, "Maybe if we hit them in the same spot a few times?"

"Worth a try!" Dwalin said.

An enraged roar from the third Troll caught her attention. Was that Kili and Fili taking on a Troll with the help of an Elf girl? Yes, it was, she determined with another quick glance as she danced back from the Troll's stomping foot. Son of a Warg. If they didn't manage to take out one of the Trolls soon, they were all going to become Dwarf jelly.

She ducked another ham-handed swing and ran under the Troll's loincloth-covered crotch, almost physically recoiling from the stench as she sliced the inside of the beast's thigh, hoping to catch the big vein and cause it to bleed out.

The Troll roared and spun quicker than she had anticipated. Nori danced to the side and managed to avoid the worst of the blow, but she still ended up knocked to the ground with her head ringing and her ribs screaming as the Troll stomped toward her.

Dwalin shouted and smashed his hammer into the side of the Troll's knee, causing it to fall to its knees, bellowing in pain. 

Nori scrambled to her feet. "Thanks, dear."

"Try not to get stepped on, love."

Panting, Nori grinned at him and then winced, holding her ribs. Dwalin looked concerned.

Even with one Troll essentially immobilized they were in bad shape. The Elves seemed to be wearing their Troll down, but the kids looked to be in trouble. Fili was on the ground, clutching at his leg. The Troll knocked the Elf girl to the side and stomped toward Kili, who was standing his ground in front of his injured brother

With Dwalin at her side, Nori ran toward them. Thorin had already reached the Troll, swinging at a huge hand before it could grab Kili. The Troll caught Thorin with a backhand, throwing him several feet in the air. Thorin crashed to the ground and did not move.

The Troll grinned nastily and stomped towards Thorin, ignoring Kili and the Elf's renewed assault like it was nothing more troubling than the stinging of insects. The Troll reached Thorin and grabbed him in one meaty paw, holding him in the air. Thorin's head lolled to the side. He seemed barely conscious.

Dwalin roared in anger and Nori readied herself for a suicidal leap at the Troll's throat. Kili screamed in anguish as he hacked away at the creature's legs.

And then--

An earth-shattering roar, a sound like a thousand forge bellows, and a huge silvery shape descended from the air, latching onto the Troll's back with fangs and claws.

The Troll screamed, dropping Thorin as it tried desperately to get the dragon off its back, but to no avail. The dragon latched his jaws around the Troll's neck and bit down, a horrible tearing, squelching noise as his teeth sheared right through the Troll's neck and ripped its head off.

Nori looked around them, seeing that the Elves had finished off their Troll. The last surviving Troll was crawling toward them, pulling itself along with only one usable knee.

The dragon tossed the Troll's body aside disdainfully and shot a lance of white-hot flame at the remaining Troll. The Troll roared in defiance, ripping a huge boulder from the ground and throwing it at the dragon, who batted the boulder out of the air, sending broken rock fragments flying. 

In two quick strides that shook the earth, the dragon crossed the battlefield to the remaining Troll. Ignoring the Troll's fists battering at his skull, the dragon bit the Troll around its midsection, raising it up in the air and shaking it like a cat killing a rat. The Troll screamed, thrashed weakly, and went still. The dragon dropped its corpse casually and returned to Thorin's side.

There was a sudden ringing silence, as if the entire battlefield had frozen as one. The Elves were reaching for arrows and aiming their bows.

"Wait!" Nori shouted. "Don't shoot it! The dragon is on our side!"

Thorin groaned, feebly stirring. The dragon made a mournful noise, lowering his enormous head towards Thorin.

A foolish or perhaps suicidal Orc tried rushing the dragon. The dragon fired a contemptuous burst of flame at the Orc, crisping it to burnt cinders, before lowering his head gently towards Thorin again.

"See?" Nori yelled, walking slowly towards the dragon with her hands in the air. "Perfectly harmless. To us, anyway."

Nori knelt next to Thorin's barely conscious body. "You remember me, right, Prince Consort?" she hissed under her breath. The dragon snorted at her. Fortunately it was just very hot air, not flames.

"Don't suppose you could un-dragon yourself?" she asked, feeling for Thorin's pulse. "You're making the Elves twitchy."

The dragon laughed, which was more than moderately terrifying when you were about five feet away from a mouth with teeth bigger around than your legs. "I fear that would not make them any less agitated, Lady Nori," he said in a voice that boomed like thunder.

Nori aimed an exasperated look at one shield-sized eye. "Well, make yourself useful then. Thorin could use some healing, or--"

The dragon suddenly shrank down, heat shimmers filling the air until Thranduil knelt where the dragon had been a moment ago.

There was the sound of swearing in Elvish (she might not understand it, but she knew swearing when she heard it) and someone released an arrow through the space the dragon had inhabited. 

"Watch it!" Nori snapped, jumping to her feet and glaring at the Elves.

"All right, nothing to see here, there's more Orcs and Wargs to kill!" Dwalin shouted. Nori met his eyes and gestured a thank-you in Iglishmiek. 

"Go on. I'll handle it from here," Thranduil said without looking up from where he held his hands over Thorin's chest. He glanced up briefly. "Thank you for protecting him."

Nori nodded to him. "No need for thanks. Thorin is my king too."

Then she hefted her blades in both hands and joined Dwalin, standing back-to-back with him against the renewed assault of the enemy.

***

The gate could not hold forever, as damaged as it was. Dis tried to ignore the exhaustion dragging at her limbs as they waited for the Orcs to break through once more. Beside her, Balin began singing a war chant in Khuzdul. 

Dis joined in, hearing Bofur's strong baritone join in next, followed by the voices of his brother and cousin. Bifur spoke so rarely, preferring to communicate in Iglishmiek, that it took her a moment to recognize the deep bass voice as his. Dori and Ori's sweet alto voices joined in, followed by Grimr's resonant baritone. None of the Dracadelf Dwarves were singing.

Eindrith was staring at her, mouth dropped open in shock. "What?" Dis asked him.

He sputtered for a moment. "It's just--we don't--the sacred language is only to be used for prayer services," he said, sounding scandalized.

Dis laughed, throwing her head back. "What do you call doing honorable battle against the enemies of Dwarvenkind, if not a prayer to Mahal?"

Looking intrigued, Eindrith listened to a repeat of the chant and then joined in. Slowly, seeing that their Captain approved, the rest of the Dracadelf Dwarves began singing as well, until the little plateau at the head of the valley rang with their song.

The gate splintered and crashed to the ground and Orcs poured through the opening. Still singing, the Dwarves braced themselves to meet the enemy's charge.

***

The light of the rising sun crept silently across the battlefield, revealing the bloody, cruel results of the evening's battle. Orcs, Wargs, Dwarves, and even a few Elves lay broken on the ground. A fitful breeze rustled the blackened, burnt remains of trees and bushes, showering the ground with ashes. 

Nori awoke suddenly, coughing to clear her lungs of ashes as she curled up around the pain of her cracked ribs. Shoving a Warg corpse off of her, she staggered to her feet. Her fingers came away black with ashes and dried blood when she rubbed her eyes. Looking around, she couldn't see any signs of life, but she was pretty sure that they had won.

The question was, what had they lost?


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see the aftermath of the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neo-Khuzdul translations: 
> 
> mizimith - young jewel  
> ghivashel - treasure of all treasures

Nori looked around her, seeing the scattered remnants of the battle. Corpses lay where they had fallen among the burnt grass and scrub brush of the ravine. She had been lying pinned by a Warg corpse close to the side of the ravine, hidden from anyone who might be searching for survivors. It remained to be seen whether that was a good or bad thing.

Where was Dwalin?

Beyond the pain of her cracked ribs, her head ached, with a particularly strong pain behind her right ear. She gingerly brushed the area with her fingertips, sucking in a breath and wincing as her fingers encountered a large lump on her skull, which of course immediately began to throb even more painfully now that she knew where it was.

She wasn't sure how long she walked, but she didn't seem to have covered much ground. The ravine seemed longer than it had been before. It probably didn't help that she kept needing to sit down to take a rest. Her vision was blurring in and out and it was hard to keep her balance. 

She was finding it hard to keep a thought in her head long enough to complete it, but she knew that she needed to get to the lost city to find... who was she looking for? She couldn't remember. But she thought that if anyone knew what had happened, it would be there.

"You there!" someone called from the other side of the ravine. 

Nori turned to face them, feeling terribly slow and vulnerable. She'd be easy prey for any wandering Orcs in her current state. Fortunately it was only the blond Elf whom she'd tricked into taking out the smart Orc for her during the battle. "Blondie."

The Elf crossed the ravine floor to her, picking his way through the corpses and other debris of the battle. "My name is Legolas, son of Queen Merillael of Mirkwood. I would appreciate it if you would stop referring to me as "Blondie.""

"Nori daughter of Kori, at your... whoah," Nori said, flinging a hand out to her side to try to keep her balance as her vision suddenly went dark and fuzzy.

"Are you injured?" Legolas asked, sounding annoyed that he had to ask that question.

She sat down on a dead Warg, not really by choice so much as it was either sit down or fall down. Closing her eyes, Nori swallowed hard against a surge of nausea. "Pretty sure something hit me in the head. Hard."

"I'll take you back to the healing tents." Legolas paused and she could just imagine his sucking-on-lemons expression as he added, "Do you need me to carry you?"

"Nah, I just need a minute. Do you have any water?" 

Legolas handed her a fancy metal and glass flask. "This is miruvor. It will revive you better than water. Just sip it though; it is strong."

The liquid inside tasted overly sweet and fruity, and also like the best thing she'd ever drunk. Nori suspected Elven magic, but if it made her feel a little less like she'd been stepped on by a Troll, she didn't care. Stepped on by a Troll, what was that making her think of? There was something... 

Resting her aching head on her hand, Nori tried to think. Something was missing. No, not something, some _one_. Her eyes snapped open. Oh Mahal, how had she forgotten? "Where is Dwalin? Where is he?" she repeated urgently when Legolas didn't immediately answer.

"I'm sorry, I don't know who--"

"Ah, balls. Of course you don't know his name. He's tall for a Dwarf, balding, has tattoos on his skull and hands. And other places, but you probably wouldn't have seen them." Nori knew she was rambling, but there was a strange lag between what she was thinking and what came out of her mouth. "He was wearing a green leather jerkin. Or, wait, we grabbed some armor from the armory--"

Legolas interrupted the flow of words before she could ramble on any further. "Yes, I have seen that Dwarf. He is in the healing tent."

"Healing tent? How badly is he injured?" She pushed herself to her feet, closing her eyes for a moment as her sense of balance adjusted.

"I am sorry, I do not know." He sounded sincere, as far as she could tell. Hard to judge that with Elves. "Lady Dwarf, let me carry you hence so that you may see for yourself."

"I'm not a lady, and my name is Nori." She took a couple of steps and almost lost her balance onto a dead Orc's serrated blade. This wasn't going to work. Nori sighed. "Fine, you can carry me if you can figure out some way to do it without putting pressure on my ribs."

"Lover-style is out of the question, then," he said with a completely straight face. "Perhaps it would be best if I carry you on my back."

"Mahal, this is embarrassing," she said as Legolas knelt in front of her so that she could loop her arms around his neck to be carried pickaback.

"It is not a stroll through the gardens from this side either. You stink of dead Warg."

Nori snorted, though she wasn't entirely sure that Legolas had meant that to be as funny as it was. 

With a little trial and error, they managed to find a position that didn't put pressure on her cracked ribs. The Elf's gait was almost unnaturally smooth as he walked along the grisly obstacle course that the floor of the ravine had become overnight. "What happened?" she asked. "I remember the dragon coming down and killing the shit out of those Trolls, I remember telling you guys not to shoot him, and then... nothing."

"I am curious about something--you seemed to already know the dragon wasn't what he appeared to be, even before he transformed. How is that?"

"I'm not telling you anything unless you tell me what happened last night." Nori had pocketed the flask earlier instead of handing it back to him. She took another gulp of the liquid inside. She thought that it was starting to make her feel better. And if a little made her feel a little better, even more should be fantastic.

"You are obstinate." They were passing a little rocky hillock. Nori blinked and realized that it wasn't a natural hillock, it was a Troll corpse turned to stone in the sunlight.

"Of course I'm stubborn, I'm a Dwarf. And you're avoiding a straight answer, just like a typical Elf."

"I beg your pardon," Legolas said. He sounded oddly annoyed, for someone who was making such a sincere apology. Elves were strange, Nori thought. 

"At any rate," Legolas added, "the fight continued after the Trolls were killed, though the Orcs seemed to have lost heart a bit. The three great pards joined us soon after, having cut a swathe through the army from the rear."

"Pards? Oh, you mean cats? What were cats doing on the battlefield?" They were nearing the spot where Nori, Dwalin, and Thorin had shot flaming bolts from the cave entrance. The ground here was charred black, little puffs of ash rising from the Elf's footsteps. Nori bit her lip, worrying about how badly Dwalin had been injured.

"Not just any cats. Skinchangers, turned into great striped cats the size of Wargs."

"Skinchangers? Wait, do you mean Mistress Eurwen? But she's a tiny little Hobbit!"

"And the dragon is just an average-sized Elf. The skinchanger magic does not appear to pay attention to sizes overmuch. But yes, Eurwen is her name. The other two skinchangers have already departed.

"With the Trolls defeated and the great pards bolstering our forces, we were able to push back against the Orcs and hem them in against the head of the ravine. Unfortunately, that meant even more pressure against the defenders on the other end of the entrance passage. Eventually the cordon of defenders broke under the pressure and Orcs and Wargs flooded into the valley. I have not yet heard what happened then but it cannot have been good. I believe messengers have been sent to determine the state of the valley."

It looked like they were getting closer to the entrance tunnel. The stench of corpses was overwhelming as the sun neared its zenith. Nori began to see Dwarves hauling Orc and Warg corpses into piles to be burnt later. Dwarves would be interred in the stone, and Elves... Nori really wasn't sure what the Elves did with their dead.

A sudden feeling of terror made Nori's heart thump hard against her ribcage. "Dori and Ori. Did you see an older woman with elaborately braided white hair or a young girl with red hair in the healing tents?"

He shook his head. "I do not remember any such, but I was not specifically looking for them. I recognized the bald Dwarf from the fight against the Troll."

Nori growled and resisted the urge to thump the Elf's sides with her boots like a recalcitrant pony. "Can't you walk faster? Or run?" 

"I think that a great deal of jostling and bouncing is the last thing someone with a head injury needs. But yes, I believe that I can speed up a little without jostling you overmuch."

"Thanks, Blondie." Nori uncapped the flask of Elvish liquor and took another long swig. The taste was growing on her.

***

A repetitive knocking noise, like a hard nut being cracked against a stone, intruded on Ingrith's hazy dreams of smoke and fire.

She blinked several times, trying to make her eyes cooperate and focus. She seemed to be lying in an alleyway next to a partially overturned cart. The cart's pony, trapped by its harness, whickered unhappily and rolled its eyes at her when she stood up slowly. She had to assume the driver was dead, based on the amount of blood splashed on the cart's seat, but there was no sign of a body.

"Dwarf is awake," a familiar scratchy, croaking voice announced. With a flutter of wings, the Raven landed on the footboard of the cart.

"Dwarf has a name," Ingrith said. She didn't seem to be injured other than a deep cut on her thigh which had begun to bleed sluggishly with her movement. She actually appeared to have survived the night with surprisingly little in the way of injuries.

"Raven has a name too," the bird said, cocking its head to look at her out of one beady eye.

"Oh. My apologies." For some reason it hadn't occurred to her that the Raven might have a name. "What is your name?"

"Maybe tell Dwarf later." The Raven made the sound she recognized as its version of laughter.

"Hilarious." Ingrith rested a hand on the pony's neck, waiting to see how it would react and prepared to dodge if necessary. The pony whickered again and shook its head, harness jingling, but stood quietly as she stroked its neck. One of the cart's wheels stood at a drunken angle to the cart, axle apparently broken.

She retrieved her sword, lying in the street where she must have dropped it when she passed out. Ingrith made a note to light a flame for Mahal in thanks for protecting her while she lay helpless in the street. Retrieving her sword, she used it to cut the traces that attached the pony to the cart and trim its reins down.

The pony stood patiently as she slowly climbed onto its back, careful of her still-bleeding thigh wound. She guided it with the cut remnants of its long reins toward what she hoped might be a more major street.

The Raven took wing and landed on a post, pacing them down the alley. "Ravens eat well today," it said.

Ingrith's stomach turned over. "Please don't tell me if you've eaten Dwarven flesh today."

"No Dwarves. Wargs are much tastier." She didn't miss that it had a frame of reference for that comparison, but it was a carrion bird after all. "Almost as good as sheep."

"I guess that's... good?... to know."

The Raven made the sound that was its version of laughter, but said nothing more.

The early morning light revealed substantial damage to Dracahafen. There was fire damage to just about everything that wasn't made of stone. The corpses of Dwarves lay in the street alongside those of Orcs and Wargs.

She worried for a moment about whether Fili had survived the battle and then told herself to stop thinking like a foolish child. Whether or not one handsome, annoying Dwarf had survived the battle was of no true consequence.

A patrol of Palace Guards made their way up the street toward her, checking the corpses to see if any survivors lay among them. 

"You there," one of them called to her. Ingrith stopped the pony's slow progress and waited for him to reach her. As he neared her, his eyes widened and he asked, "Ingrith, daughter of Thegn Hafrith?"

"Disowned daughter, but yes." She squinted at the guard, finding him vaguely familiar. "It's Guardsman Kollir, isn't it?"

"Yes, my lady," he said, dropping to one knee. 

Ingrith's skin prickled with chills. "Why do you kneel to me?" 

"Thegn Hafrith is dead."

The response was automatic. "Then my brother is Thegn."

"I am sorry to bring you ill news, my lady--my liege," he corrected himself. "We have received news from the defenders at the valley gate that your brother Eindrith has gone on to the Halls of Waiting."

Her lips felt numb and clumsy as she said, "Then I am Thegn." Her brother was dead. Her feelings about her father were so mixed that she wasn't sure if she felt grief or anger for him, but Eindrith had always been her best friend and boon companion. Ingrith took a deep breath, raised her chin, and told herself that she could fall apart later. Right now her people needed her.

"Guardsman Kollir," she said. He looked up at her expectantly and it took her a moment to figure out that he was waiting for her permission to stand up. "Please, rise. Who is in charge at the Palace right now?"

"The Steward is. The Captain of the Palace Guard was with the Thegn--I mean, Thegn Hafrith--when they were ambushed." 

"Ambushed where?" 

"By the river gate, my liege."

Ingrith could almost laugh, it was so predictable. Almost. "How much of the treasury did he have with him?"

Looking uncomfortable, Kollir answered stoutly, "At least three full saddlebags."

Perched on a wall nearby, the Raven cawed loudly, the first time she'd heard it make such a noise. Kollir eyed the bird warily.

Ingrith did laugh at that, a harsh, jagged burst of sound. "Well, let's go see what sort of state the Palace is in, shall we?"

***

After a few minutes of silent walking, Legolas said, "You promised that you would tell me about the dragon after I told you what had happened last night."

"Actually, if you cast your mind back, you will realize that I never said what I would tell you. Never try to get the better of a Dwarf in contract negotiations," Nori grinned. 

She would swear to Mahal that Legolas's pointy ears actually flattened to his head like an angry cat. "Are you not willing to tell me anything at all?"

"The dragon's secrets are not for me to tell. First of all, they're his secrets, and secondly, I don't want to get turned into charcoal because I shared information I shouldn't have."

"You do not understand, this may be of great importance to my people."

"Listen, like I said, it's for him to decide whether he wants to talk to you at all. But I will give you a word of advice."

"Yes?"

"If he starts looking angry or staring into the distance blankly, just leave him alone for a while. It'll be safer for all of us." Nori sort of liked Thranduil--he wasn't half-bad, for an Elf--but the fact remained that he'd turned into a dragon and chased them across half a city. She'd really rather not repeat the experience because Legolas got curious.

Legolas lapsed into pensive silence as they entered the tunnel at the head of the ravine, which had been cleared of Orc and Warg corpses. At the end of the tunnel, there was a huge gate lying crooked and half-destroyed on the ground. Beyond, there was a cluster of three large tents sitting in the middle of the muddy plateau beside the gate. 

"Healing tents, Bl--Legolas. Now."

Legolas sighed. "I think your companions will be in here," he said, stopping in front of one of the tents, which looked identical to the other two as far as Nori could tell. 

"You can let me down now." The process of getting off Legolas' back was just as embarrassing as getting on had been, for with her cracked ribs she couldn't just slide off his back. Standing on her own two feet again, Nori waited for the slight dizziness to go away. "Thanks for the lift."

"You're welcome. Could I have my flask of miruvor back now?"

And here she thought he hadn't noticed that she'd kept it. Nori handed the flask back, substantially lighter than it had been before. She expected him to leave then, off to frolic in the woods or whatever, but he followed her as she ducked inside the flap of the healing tent, finding herself in a large room full of wounded Dwarves. Some lay on pallets, some on blankets, and some simply lay on the floor. 

As soon as she walked in the door, Ori shrieked her name and flung herself into Nori's arms. Nori winced and made an involuntary noise of pain as the movement jarred her ribs. "Are you all right?" Ori asked, pulling back from her and looking at her worriedly from one eye. The other was covered by the bandages wrapped around her head.

"Just my ribs," Nori said, trying to smile reassuringly. From the look on Ori's face, she wasn't doing a great job. "What happened to you?"

"I took a sword to the face a little. Just a little!"

Nori cupped Ori's face in her hands. "Little jewel. Your eye?"

Ori raised her chin bravely. "The blade missed my eye. Mistress Eurwen says I'll have an impressive scar, though."

"Oh, Ori." Carefully, she wrapped her little sister in a hug.

"What have you done to yourself? You have blood all over your face!" Dori descended upon them, wiping ineffectually at the blood crusted on the side of Nori's face from her head injury.

"It's all right. Mahal's sake, stop fussing," Nori said. She saw the look of hurt, quickly hidden, on her older sister's face. Sighing, Nori held out an arm so that Dori could join their hug. "Come on, big sister," she said when Dori hesitated.

Dori wrapped her arms around them, careful of Nori's ribs. Nori closed her eyes. It was possible that she was crying a little, though she admitted nothing.

"I was so worried," Dori said in a voice thick with tears. "Don't ever do that again."

Nori rested her head against Dori's. "I swear that I will try not to fall through a collapsing secret passageway into a lost city ever again."

Dori laughed tearfully. "Brat."

"You'd better not," Ori said. "Or if you do, take me with you. I hate it when you leave me behind."

"I promise, little jewel." After a few minutes, Nori pulled back from the hug, wiping at her eyes with the least filthy part of her sleeve. "Do you know where Dwalin is? Is he all right?" She just had to see the look on Dori's face to know that the news wasn't good. "What's wrong with him? Where is he?"

"He's in the tent where they've put the most badly wounded. But Nori--"

" _Show me_."

Wordlessly, Dori nodded and led them to a tent that had two guards standing outside of it. They recognized Dori and Ori and waved them through. Inside there were fewer injured than in the other tent, all lying on cots instead of improvised pallets. 

Nori saw Dwalin immediately, lying on a cot on the far side of the tent with Grimr standing by his side. Dwalin was very still and what she could see of his upper body was covered in bandages. Nori's heart felt like it was seizing in her chest as she rushed across the room to his cot. She couldn't breathe until her searching fingertips found the pulse in his neck. It was faint and slow, but it was there.

"How badly is Dwalin injured?" Nori demanded.

"Perhaps you should sit down," Grimr said, looking sympathetic and placing a hand on her arm.

Nori yanked her arm away. " _Tell me how he is_." She could tell that people were staring at her raised voice, but she did not have time for this.

Grimr knew her too well to bother telling her to calm down. "He was bitten by a Warg. He has deep puncture wounds in his shoulder and his collarbone and and upper arm bone were broken badly."

"But he'll live, right?" The dizziness was coming back. Nori grabbed at Grimr's arm, trying to keep her balance. She was vaguely aware of a buzz of concerned voices and someone leading her to lie down on an empty cot.

"She said she had cracked ribs and that she had hit her head," she heard Blondie--Legolas--say. An indecipherable voice responded. 

"I'm fine," Nori said, trying to sit up. An impossibly heavy weight pressed down on her chest and she sank back into the bed. Forcing her eyes to focus, Nori saw that the weight was nothing more than Dori's hand. All right, maybe she wasn't fine, exactly.

Lady Dis leaned over her and stared into Nori's eyes, scolding her to stay still when Nori tried looking away. "Her pupils are the same size, that's a good sign. Any nausea? Confusion? Dizziness?"

Nori started to nod, then thought better of it. "Yes to all three."

"She has suffered a commotion of the brain," Dis said crisply to Dori. "She should recover from it quickly but she'll need to rest as much as possible for a few days. The cracked ribs will take longer to heal, but again the only physick for them is time and rest."

Nori caught her by the wrist, asking urgently, "Lady Dis. You're a physicker. Tell me what Dwalin's chances are."

Dis looked stern but sympathetic. "I will not lie to you, Dwalin is badly injured. I purified and stitched his bite wounds, but the damage to his collarbone and arm is substantial. The biggest danger right now is wound fever, but there could be more damage inside his chest that we can't see. If he survives the next few days, he has a decent chance of recovery," Dis said. "Now, lie back and let me take a look at your head wound."

Nori submitted to Dis purifying her scalp wound with alcohol and placing a few stitches, but she absolutely refused to leave Dwalin's side to get rest. They eventually compromised on placing her cot next to Dwalin's, on the side away from his injury.

Nori reached her hand across the tiny gap between their cots and held onto Dwalin's wrist. Feeling his pulse underneath her fingertips, Nori relaxed enough to give in to her exhaustion and sleep.

***

Dis was never sure afterwards exactly how long the battle at the gate to the valley lasted. In her memory there was barely a moment between the last Orc falling and the sun rising, but she doubted that was actually true.

The rising sun lit a landscape of the dead, dying, and injured. Dis knew that the first order of business was to separate out those who could be saved from those who were too close to the doors of the Halls of Waiting to be called back.

She looked around for the members of the Company. Bifur and Bombur knelt next to Bofur, putting pressure on a shoulder wound. Nearby, Dori, Grimr, and the little Hobbit were clustered around Ori, who was clutching a bloody hand to her face. Balin leaned on his sword next to Dis, looking exhausted but uninjured.

There was no sign of Eindrith, the leader of the soldiers. She remembered the wound he'd carried even before the enemy broke through the gate and doubted they would find him among the living. Someone needed to take command here. "Balin, find someone who's a swift runner to run to the Palace and determine what the situation is there. Then get the survivors organized."

He nodded sharply, already turning away. Reassured that Balin would take care of that aspect of the situation, Dis started the awful duty of separating out the savable from the dying.

The members of the Company stationed by the gate had been fairly lucky. The cut across Ori's face would scar, but she was unlikely to lose the eye. The stab wound through Bofur's shoulder, while deep, had missed anything vital. Dis shoved back her frantic worry over her sons (missing, but so was the Elf girl, and one of the Marchwardens thought he'd seen them taking the trail to the lookout point) and her brother, and got to work.

Some time later, she looked up from her work sewing a Marchwarden's arm back together to see two tall, blond Elves carrying in Thorin and Dwalin's bloody, unconscious bodies. Tauriel followed them carrying Fili, who was conscious and looked horrendously embarrassed to be carried despite the bloody bandages wrapped around one leg. Kili followed them, standing on his own but with his right hand wrapped thickly in torn fabric.

After that the rest of the morning was a blur. She managed to get Thorin and Dwalin's conditions stable enough that they were no longer in danger of bleeding to death with the help of the taller of the blond Elves, who turned out to have some knowledge of healing. Fili's leg was badly broken, but not life-threatening. 

Dis's heart hurt at Kili's brave reaction to losing the little finger and third finger on his right hand. "I can still draw a bow, at least. Could be worse," he said with a shaky attempt at a smile.

Mistress Eurwen appeared at some point, Dis knew not from whence, and helped to bandage and poultice the wounded. Bell acted as Eurwen's assistant once they finished bandaging Ori's head wound.

Somehow, Balin had managed to find three large pavillion-style tents, which they transferred the wounded to in order of severity. Balin had taken command of the Marchwardens since, as she had expected, Eindrith had been found among the dead. Dis was immensely grateful for everything that Balin had done that day and made a note to herself to thank him once she had a moment where she was not purifying wounds, stitching cuts, and setting bones.

At last there was a slight lull in the frenzy. Dis looked up from the sword wound she had just finished stitching and caught the eyes of the tall, blond Elf standing across from her holding instruments at the ready. Though she had not yet caught his name, the Elf had been one of the best assistants she'd ever worked with. "Dis, daughter of Thrain, at your service," she said in a voice faint and scratchy from shouting orders.

He paused for a long moment. "Gwethael, at yours."

She suspected that was a false name, but as far as Dis was concerned he could call himself whatever he wanted. Without his help and the help of Mistress Eurwen, she would have lost many more patients today. "You have my deepest thanks for your assistance today." She would thank Eurwen as well when the Hobbit returned from directing Bell and a couple of the less-wounded Marchwardens in preparing poultices. 

Inclining his head in a gracious nod, the Elf said, "Will you allow me to tend to your wounds now?"

Dis blinked. "What wounds?"

"You have deep scratches across your back, I would assume from Warg claws. They have not been bleeding much but they should be cleaned out and purified before you develop wound fever."

Now that she was paying attention, Dis could feel the stinging pain of the scratches stretching across her back from shoulder to hip. "Very well." She turned away and pulled her tunic off before lying down on the cot, stained liberally with blood, that they had been using to stitch and bandage up the walking wounded.

Gwethael quickly and deftly cleaned out the scratches and bandaged them. "This one may need stitches," he said, lightly tapping her shoulder to indicate the location.

"Do it then." He didn't ask if she needed anything for the pain before placing a couple of neat stitches in her shoulder. She wasn't sure if that was out of respect for her toughness or because he'd simply forgotten to.

She had barely put her tunic back on when Nori came in with the side of her head covered in dried blood and refused to be treated until she knew Dwalin's probable chances.

Dis had not always thought well of Nori. She was a thief, a charlatan, and seemed to be the type to create emotional drama and then flee from the consequences. However, Dis was impressed by the devotion that Nori showed to Dwalin now. Perhaps that match would turn out well despite Dis's misgivings.

After Nori was settled on a cot next to Dwalin's, Dis ducked through the curtain that divided off the main portion of the tent from the corner where Thorin and Fili lay on cots set side-by-side. There was a chair between the two cots, and there Kili sat, his right hand wrapped in bandages, watching his brother sleep. Fili looked to be resting comfortably, his color healthy despite the blood he'd lost. In contrast, Thorin lay pale and absolutely still, only the slow rise and fall of his chest assuring her that he still lived.

" _Mizimith_ ," she said, opening her arms as Kili stood and almost collapsed against her. "I'm so sorry."

Burying his head in her shoulder, he asked, "Fili and Uncle--do you think they'll be all right, Mam?"

Dis rubbed her cheek against his hair. "Fili will be fine. He may or may not be able to walk on that leg again, but he is going to be all right, I promise."

"And Uncle?" Kili pulled back to look at her with desperate eyes. He seemed too young to her to have seen so much battle. She wished she could have left her sons behind in Ered Luin, but then again they might not have been any safer there with the growing anti-Ereborean unrest. 

"I don't know," she said as gently as she could. "Thorin's injuries are grave. But we are doing everything we can for him. If it is at all possible, we will save him."

Wrapping his arms around her and hiding his face in her neck, Kili sobbed. Dis held on, rubbing his back soothingly. His tight grip made the scratches on her back sting and burn, but she wouldn't have pushed him away for the world.

Eventually, Kili's sobs died down and he pulled away, wiping his eyes with his forearm. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she told him firmly. "Why don't you lie down and get some rest?"

Kili's jaw firmed stubbornly. "I'm not leaving Fili."

This was clearly a battle she was not going to win. "I'll get you a blanket, _mizimith_ , and you can rest in here," she said, lightly touching their foreheads together.

Kili sighed, sounding utterly wrung-out. "Thank you, Mam." 

Later, after she finished making her rounds of the wounded, she returned to the tent to find Kili rolled up in the blanket and sleeping on the floor next to his brother's cot. Gwethael sat hunched over in the chair next to Thorin's cot, his head resting in his hands. He must have heard her enter, because the face he raised to greet her was perfectly calm and cold-looking. She might even have believed him indifferent, did she not see the tear-tracks tracing down his cheeks.

"You're him, aren't you?" Dis asked quietly as she checked Thorin's pulse and breathing. "The Elf that Thorin dreamed about, the one who was searching for him in the ruined city."

"He dreamed about me?" Without asking, Gwethael held the fresh bandages ready so that Dis could more easily change Thorin's bandages.

"Yes, though he didn't tell me any details," she said as she unwound bloody bandages from Thorin's torso. "But how could Thorin have dreamed about you if he had never met you? Was all that nonsense he told the Thegn about being Hrathi Stonefist reborn actually true?"

The Elf nodded, deftly unrolling fresh bandages as she wrapped Thorin's torso again. Her brother's injuries were severe, but so far he did not appear to be developing wound fever. Whether he would live was still an open question, however. Dis prayed that Mahal would be merciful.

"We had met before, in another life. I met him a very long time ago when he was a young, angry Dwarf named Hrathi. I knew him and loved him for over a hundred years and when he died, I thought that I would too." Gwethael seemed to drift into a reverie for a moment.

"Go on." Dis tugged on the end of the bandage that he was holding, trying to gently nudge the Elf back to the here and now. 

He blinked and seemed to come back to himself. "We fade, you see, if our grief is too great to be borne. Many of us choose to travel across the sea to the west when we feel the fading coming on. If we do not, then we slowly fade away, until we fall into a sleep as still as death. And one day our hearts simply stop."

Dis made sure to keep Gwethael distracted with changing Thorin's bandages. She had a feeling he wouldn't be this talkative normally.

"So I waited," Gwethael said. "But I did not fade, even though I wanted to. Something kept me tethered to this world. I was waiting, though I did not know why. My love was dead. What did I have left to wait for?"

"And then Thorin appeared."

"Hrathi reborn. Somehow my soul must have known that he would return one day."

"Does he remember you?" Dis asked as she finished changing Thorin's bandages.

Bowing his head, Gwethael laid a hand on Thorin's forehead. "He does, at least a little. Lady Dis, I know that Thorin is not my Hrathi," he said, looking up at her. "I don't know if he will ever love me as Hrathi did. Regardless, I will do everything that is in my power to save him. I pray that it will be enough."

She believed him. And though she might not entirely understand it, if loving this Elf was Thorin's choice then she would respect it.

Meeting Gwethael's eyes, Dis nodded slowly. "As do I."

Carrying out the basket full of soiled bandages to be boiled and bleached, Dis left the Elf holding silent vigil over Thorin.

***

Nori wasn't sure what had awakened her. The healing tent was lit only by a few braziers and no movement or conversation broke the stillness. She had no idea how long she had slept, but it felt like it was late at night. 

There was a slight tug at her wrist. Nori looked at her wrist and saw a massive hand holding her wrist gently. She knew, despite the darkness of the tent, that the hand had tattoos on each finger. Her eyes flew upwards and she gasped. "Dwalin."

He was smiling at her, his eyes mostly closed. "Nori," he said in a raspy, barely-there voice.

Nori sat up too fast and then sat there swaying for a couple of moments, her head pounding and her vision fuzzing.

"Injured?" She could barely make out his voice.

"Brain commotion, nothing serious," she said, blinking until her vision cleared. He looked worried. "Lady Dis says I'll be fine in a few days."

He nodded then asked,"Me?" 

"Warg bite. Your shoulder looks like ground meat and you have a broken collarbone and arm, but you'll be fine. You'll be just fine."

His eyes drifted shut and then opened again after a pause. "Love you," he mouthed, his voice completely gone.

Nori felt her eyes sting with tears. "I love you too, _ghivashel_."

He smiled at that and mouthed the word back to her before swiftly falling back to sleep.

Nori laid down carefully, arranging herself so that she could hold his hand, and watched over him until eventually she, too, could keep her eyes open no longer.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the recovery begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin: mae l'ovannen - well met (formal greeting)
> 
> Khuzdul: azaghith - young warrior, ghivashel - treasure of treasures
> 
> Warning for behavior on Thranduil's part which could be indicative of an eating disorder.

Thranduil watched over Thorin all through the night. He could feel Thorin's soul struggle to hold fast to his body. The Troll had crushed Thorin in its hand and though he was not yet dying, he was not getting any better either.

In the morning, Lady Dis ordered him to get, if not rest, at least food. Thorin's sister shared his brilliantly blue eyes and long black hair, faintly streaked with silver. Their tendency to be imperious and commanding was the same as well.

"I can survive much longer than this without food," Thranduil pointed out.

"It will be no help to Thorin if you pass out from hunger while watching him. Now go. I will watch over Thorin for a while."

Thranduil swallowed down his pride with difficulty and nodded. He ducked outside the curtain into the main part of the healing tent and saw Nori sitting on a cot next to her mate's. 

She looked up and smiled at him, her mouth quirking to the side. "Lady Dis kick you out, Prince Consort?" 

He really wasn't sure why he liked the little red-headed Dwarf so much. She spoke to him with an odd mixture of perfect respect--always remembering to use his proper title--and informal bluntness, and for some reason it disarmed him. Thranduil shrugged, the movement feeling odd on his shoulders. "I have been, as you say, kicked out to find some food."

"Dwalin's resting," she said, gently stroking a hand over the bald Dwarf's brow, furrowed even in sleep. "And my stomach has been growling like a Warg. Let's go see what we can find to eat."

She stood up quickly and then moaned, holding her head. 

"Is your head worse?" Thranduil asked, holding a hand a bare inch from the side of her face. He couldn't feel any serious damage, but head wounds were tricky things.

"Feels like I have a hangover. But I didn't drink anything... oh," she said, her eyes widening in realization. "Prince Consort, can miru--whatever, that Elven drink that's supposed to revive you--"

"Miruvor." He had a feeling he knew what she was about to ask. "Did you drink more than a few small sips?" She nodded miserably. "You are going to feel... what was the word you used? Like you have a hangover for a few hours. I'd advise drinking a lot of water."

"Fantastic," she said, sounding like she meant it was anything but. "Let's go."

People were staring at him. It hadn't been quite as obvious in the healing tents, where many were unconscious or in pain, but once they exited the tent it became obvious that many of the Dwarves were staring at him. He supposed perhaps they did not see Elves often. But there were a few other Elves around, part of the small troop of Sindar and Silvan Elves who had helped out during the battle in the ravine, and they were not being stared at as he was. Thranduil straightened his back and raised his chin, cooly meeting the eyes of any who did not look away when he caught them staring.

As they crossed between the healing tent and the area which had apparently been designated for cooking, Thranduil said quietly, "Please, Lady Nori, call me Gwethael."

As he had expected, she was too smart to be thrown off by him requesting to be called by a false name. "Gwethael, then. And you don't need to call me Lady Nori. For one thing, I'm not actually a lady. Just call me Nori."

"Nori," Thranduil said. She grinned up at him, eyes crinkling in the sunlight. She reminded him a little of a clever little spy who had worked for them in the good years, before Hrathi found out that his husband could be used as a weapon. Hrathi had sent her to spy on the kingdom of Khazad-dum. The spymaster of Khazad-dum had sent them back her head in a box.

"Prince Consort," she said sharply. Thranduil blinked and looked at her, startled. "Gwethael. You were staring into space again. Come on, let's see what kind of grub Bombur's cooked up."

"Grub? This does not sound promising."

She laughed, which Thranduil found startling. When was the last time he had made someone laugh?

The meal turned out to be some kind of grain and meat stew with limp-looking vegetables. Thranduil thought he hid his grimace of distaste fairly well, but apparently not. Once they found a clear patch of grass out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the camp and Nori gingerly eased herself into a sitting position, she asked, "Something wrong with the pottage? You eat meat, right?"

"Why do Dwarves keep asking me that?" Thranduil asked. Hrathi had asked him that the first night that they met.

Nori shrugged. "I don't know, not eating meat seems like something that Elves might do."

"I'll have you know that my father's table was renowned for the quality of venison our hunters brought in." He stopped abruptly, shocked that for once he had mentioned his father without feeling the crushing weight of guilt for what he had done at Dagorlad. 

Nori tasted a spoonful of the stew. "It's probably not up to those standards, but it's pretty good."

He sipped a little of the broth before putting the bowl down, hoping that would satisfy her. His dragon form ate a sheep every three months, enough to keep him alive. He wasn't entirely sure if he could eat solid food in his Elven form anymore.

Nori finished her bowl and put it down on the grass, continuing to sit with a very straight back in deference to her ribs. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be enjoying the sunlight. Thranduil folded his hands, trying not to fidget. It felt strange, being outside, feeling random breezes and hearing the buzz of insects in the grass. He wasn't sure that he liked it. He found himself longing for the peace and quiet of his throne room.

The blond Sindar Elf who had helped them carry in the wounded in the aftermath of the battle stepped out of one of the healing tents, pausing as he scanned the area. He saw them and walked toward them purposefully. "Good morning, Mistress Nori."

"Legolas," she said coolly. Thranduil glanced at her, startled. He hadn't realized until then how warm her voice was when she talked to him.

Placing a hand over his heart, Legolas bowed his head politely to Thranduil. " _Mae l'ovannen_. I am Legolas, son of Queen Merillael of Mirkwood."

The world seemed to stop. This was Merillael's son. His twin's son, which according to some archaic traditions meant the boy could be considered to be closer to a son than a sister-son to him. He was tall, though not so tall as Thranduil, and had inherited his grandfather Oropher's pale blond hair rather than Merillael's shining silver. Thranduil was distantly aware that Nori was introducing him by his false name. For a moment he almost wanted to protest, but then reality crashed back into him.

Thranduil had killed his father when he had first transformed into the dragon. Yes, it had been an accident; no, he hadn't had any conscious control over the dragon then or for decades after; but still the fact remained: he was a kinslayer. Everyone would be better off if Thranduil, son of Oropher, remained dead.

"Gwethael," Legolas repeated. "That is an interesting name." He was too polite to say ill-omened name, though it was. Thranduil could admit now that possibly he had been feeling a little overly dramatic when he chose a false name that meant "lake of shadows" in contrast to his sister's "lake of roses."

"I thank you," Thranduil said, even though it hadn't been a compliment. "Well met, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood." That was new, not to mention ominous-sounding. When and how had Greenwood the Great become known as Mirkwood?

"Where do you hail from, Gwethael? Your accent is most unusual."

"Is it? I suppose that it is not particularly common here in the hinterlands," Thranduil said, smiling serenely at him. A flash of irritation crossed Legolas's face.

"All right, I think it's time to get back to the healing tents," Nori said. She made to push herself to her feet and then stopped with a wince of pain. "Gwethael, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course," Thranduil said, leaping at the chance to escape from the conversation with Legolas. 

He wanted nothing more than to speak to the boy, to learn what his interests were, to truly get to know him. But he couldn't risk it, not now, not when Hrathi had only just returned to him. There was too much at stake.

***

Nori looked back and forth between Thranduil and Legolas. The resemblance was kind of eerie. Maybe Thranduil was his great-grandfather? Or however that worked when you were immortal. Young Nori had believed that Elves budded like wild onion bulbs. Grown-up Nori knew that wasn't true, but it was still difficult to imagine Elves getting down and dirty enough to knock each other up.

She nearly laughed when she heard Thranduil needling Legolas about being from the middle of nowhere. Time to break it up before Legolas's pretty little head exploded. 

Sadly, she was only exaggerating a little bit about how much assistance she needed to stand up. Mahal damn it, Nori hated feeling like an invalid.

They walked slowly back toward the healing tents, Thranduil with his hands folded behind him in that prissy walking posture that all Elves appeared to learn from the cradle. What was wrong with letting your hands swing naturally? She considered asking Thranduil that, but really, just because he seemed to find her more amusing than annoying, there was no guarantee that couldn't change if she wasn't careful. 

Back at the healing tent, Thranduil stopped next to her at Dwalin's bedside. "He is healing well," the Elf said with his hands hovering over Dwalin's chest. "The connection between his soul and his body is firm."

Nori felt a surge of relief, along with a bit of curiosity. "How can you feel that?"

He tilted his head to the side. "How can you sense the mineral content of a stone?"

"Point taken."

A Dwarf in a dusty uniform entered the tent accompanied by Balin. Balin made his way purposefully to the curtained-off area where Thorin and Fili's cots were, quietly stopping by Grimr to ask him to accompany him in. Without a word of discussion, Thranduil followed them through the curtain. Nori shrugged and followed the group.

Inside, the curtained-off area was extremely crowded between the five of them, Lady Dis, Kili, and Thorin and Fili on the two cots. Nori noticed Grimr doing something with his hands and whispering a few words. Must be doing the privacy spell again, she thought.

The travel-stained Dwarf saw Lady Dis standing next to Thorin's cot and immediately went to one knee. "Princess Dis." Nori was not the only person in the tent with raised eyebrows at that. 

"Rise, messenger," Lady Dis said. "You do not need to call me Princess. I was a princess long ago, but that kingdom has long been lost."

"But you are sister to the Returned King, are you not?" he asked after rising to his feet. Dis nodded. "Then I could call you by no lesser title." 

"Very well." Lady Dis looked not entirely pleased with that.

"Princess Dis, the Thegn sends me with a message of welcome," the messenger said with a respectful bow. 

A muscle ticked in Lady Dis's jaw. "Does he really?" 

"She, your highness," the messenger corrected. "You must not have received the news yet. Thegn Hafrith and his son Eindrith have gone on to the Halls of Waiting. Ingrith, daughter of Hafrith, is Thegn now."

Dis's face was impossible for Nori to read. "My condolences to Thegn Ingrith on her loss. I look forward to working together to aid her people in their recovery."

"The Thegn anticipated that there would be wounded from the battle. There are wagons on the way from Dracahafen to transfer the injured to better shelter."

"That will be of great help for most of the wounded. However, I'm afraid the most severely wounded would not fare well with a long ride in a wagon, though better shelter would do them good." Dis's eyes flicked down to Thorin's unconscious body. 

"I can transport them," Thranduil said. 

Dis looked up at him, openly skeptical. "Elven magic?"

"Essentially. I shall need a large, open space, litters for the wounded, and a great deal of rope. Elven rope would be best. I'm sure that Legolas or one of his followers has Elven rope. And a few volunteers who aren't squeamish about heights to ride with the wounded."

"You're going to turn into a dragon again, aren't you?" Kili asked with an enthusiastic grin.

The messenger turned white and fell to both knees so quickly that Nori could hear his knees thud against the ground. "Prince Consort! Please forgive me for not giving you the proper respect!"

Nori was standing close to and slightly behind Thranduil, and so she was the only one who could see his hands shaking as he clasped them behind his back. "Rise," the Elf said coolly. "No offense was taken, I assure you. I take this to mean that I shall not have to worry about being shot at by archers as I approach the Palace in dragon form?"

The messenger looked appalled at the very suggestion. "No, your highness. Every Dwarf of Dracadelf recognizes the King's Dragon."

Thranduil's fingers twitched. "That is indeed a relief," he said with no inflection in his voice.

Lady Dis, with a gracious smile fixed on her face, instructed Balin to take the messenger with him to organize the wounded for the move and get the litters and Elven rope. 

"A dragon?" Dis asked after Balin and the messenger had left. "Is this a jest? I have heard of Elves doing a great many unlikely things, but never of one of them turning into a dragon."

"I saw it, Mam!" Kili said excitedly. "Nori walked right up to him and talked to the dragon and then the dragon turned into the Elf!"

"And why was this information you two did not see fit to share with me?" Dis asked, looking back and forth between Kili and Nori. 

"In our defense, it's been really hectic since the battle and it sort of... slipped my mind." Nori shrugged, spreading her hands out.

"Lady Dis, it is true. I am a skinchanger, and my animal form is that of a silver firedrake." Nori glanced down and noticed that Thranduil's hands were gripping each other so tightly behind his back that his knuckles were going white. This was not good. If the Elf became too distressed, Lady Dis was going to have her demonstration of Thranduil's skinchanging abilities a lot more up close and personal than anyone ever wanted.

"A more urgent question is, can we trust Thegn Ingrith?" Nori asked, stepping slightly forward of Thranduil. "The last time I saw her she was holding a knife to my throat after tracking us all the way from Ered Luin. And oh yeah, let's not forget the part where she put a bounty on my and Grimr's heads with the Mithril Hand and nearly got my sisters killed. I'm not particularly comfortable with the thought of working with that woman."

"She said that she did it all so that the dragon wouldn't be released," a quiet, scratchy-sounding voice piped up. Everyone turned to stare at Fili, whose eyes were open for the first time since his leg had been set.

"Fili!" Kili said, rushing to his side. "How is the pain? Do you want some water?"

"In a moment, Kee. Let me finish. I convinced Ingrith to tell me why her people were doing all this and she said that their king had been in love with an Elf who could turn into a dragon. And after the king died," Fili paused to cough as Kili fussed over him.

Shit, so much for changing the subject to avoid distressing the Elf. Nori really wished she could see the early warning sign of Thranduil's hands right now. If he was about to lose control of his shape, she'd like to at least have a second to duck.

Thranduil picked up the story, his voice perfectly calm. "I lost control of my dragon form when my husband was killed. In the dragon's frenzy, I killed countless numbers of our people and destroyed large portions of our city. The survivors sealed off Dracadelf with the dragon trapped inside it. Eventually the dragon… _I_ came to an agreement with a very brave young Dwarf and her people have guarded the secret of Dracadelf ever since."

That... actually made all of the pieces fall into place. Horribly into place. Bad enough being stuck in what amounted to solitary imprisonment for two thousand years, but that... Mahal's pendulous balls, Nori was impressed that Thranduil was still mostly _sane_ after that.

***

Dis had been a young Dwarf of fifty when Smaug had descended upon Erebor. The terrible images of the destruction Smaug had caused to Erebor were indelibly engraved upon her memory. 

She hoped that the Elf could not sense the atavistic fear that sent shivers down her spine and raised the hair on her arms as he spoke of what he had done to Dracadelf. Keeping her voice and expression as calm as she could, Dis asked, "And do you have control of your dragon side now?" 

"As long as Hrath--Thorin lives, I have regained control of the dragon."

"There is a "but" there."

Gwethael inclined his head elegantly. "If Thorin passes on to the Halls of Waiting, I fear that I will lose control again. I will return to Dracadelf if Thorin's health worsens. The dragon cannot be allowed to escape from the city."

"But we escaped it pretty easily," Nori pointed out. "Even if you don't know how to pick locks, you could have broken through that gate eventually."

"Ah, but the dragon could not fit down that corridor and when I was myself, I knew that I must not leave." The Elf turned back to Dis, saying, "I believe that three litters can be affixed to the dragon's back securely. Each of the wounded should have one person accompanying them. Nori will ride with Dwalin. I leave the choice of the other two up to you."

"Very well," Dis said, as if she really had a choice in the matter. "We will ready the wounded to be transported."

The Elf inclined his head and swept out of the inner tent, followed by Nori. Dis rubbed a knuckle against the bridge of her nose, wondering how her life had come to include skinchangers, Elves, and her brother being the reincarnation of an ancient king.

"Do you have further need of me, my lady?" Grimr asked.

Dis crossed her arms and eyed him suspiciously. "One of these days soon we will have a discussion about exactly how much of what has happened here is due to your meddling, wizard."

Grimr bowed to her. "A wizard does not meddle, my lady. He merely makes suggestions." With that, he departed. 

Dis rolled her eyes. Honestly, wizards. Dismissing the thought, she hurried to Fili's bedside.

Kili had helped his brother to sit up a little and sip at a flask of water. "Mam," Fili said, holding his arms open. 

Dis felt tears gathering in her eyes as she sat on his bedside to give him a gentle hug. "Oh, my _azaghith_ ," she said. "I am so relieved to see you awake."

"How is Uncle Thorin?"

"Stable." She pulled away to meet Fili's eyes. "He made it through the first night. That's a good sign. Your uncle is a fighter. I believe that if anyone can pull through this, he can."

"And my leg?" Fili asked, looking down and to the side.

"Broken badly, but I do not believe that there was irreparable damage to the knee. You should walk again, eventually."

"That's a relief," he said, heaving a sigh. "Hey, what happened to your hand?" Fili asked, nodding his head at Kili's heavily bandaged hand. 

"I sort of, um. Lost a couple of fingers," Kili said, wincing. "But at least I can still shoot a bow."

"You're a true warrior now, little brother, wounded in battle. You need a battle-name. We can call you Kili Half-Hand."

"Half-hand?" Kili asked, nose wrinkling. "That's not very heroic."

"I need to talk to Balin about moving the wounded." Dis kissed Fili on the forehead and he smiled up at her. 

As she left, she could still hear her boys arguing about proper battle-names.

***

Dwalin's periods of consciousness had been increasing in length over the course of the morning. While this was a great sign that he was recovering, it was somewhat less wonderful that one of those periods of wakefulness coincided with the trip on dragon-back to the city of Dracahafen.

Dwalin had a white-knuckled grip on the edge of his litter with his good hand. He made a very unwarriorlike noise as the dragon crouched and then leapt into the air. The dragon's wings unfolded and opened wide, catching the air with a sharp cracking noise.

Nori gripped onto the Elven rope harness that that held her secure on the dragon's back, unable to stop grinning. "This is amazing!" she yelled over the rushing wind.

Behind them, Kili was yelling an exuberant war-cry into the wind while spreading his arms wide open. Nori was pretty sure that if their harnesses hadn't been rigged to hold them in a sitting position, Kili would be standing on the dragon's back right now.

"This is horrible," Dwalin grated out, eyes squeezed shut.

"Sorry, _ghivashel_ ," Nori said as she took his good hand between both of hers and squeezed it reassuringly. Dwalin smiled at the endearment and opened his eyes to look at her, then shut them with a wince.

"It's not natural, lass. Dwarves aren't meant to be this far away from the stone."

Nori wondered if this was actually another difference between the stone-born and those Dwarves born beneath the open sky. Ahead of them, Dis's back was a rigid line as she held onto the edge of Thorin's stretcher with both hands. But Nori, Fili, and Kili, all three of them sky-born Dwarves, were all enjoying the experience immensely. Fili was strapped down in his litter, but she could see his grin from here.

There was a faint feeling of weightlessness as the dragon dropped slightly in the air at the end of every wingbeat. If she were not fastened down by the harness, Nori would have loved to crawl to the edge of the dragon's back and look directly down at the valley. As it was, the view of the valley's rocky walls and the mountain rising behind the city was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

As the dragon flew, the trip down the entire length of the valley took only about fifteen minutes. Nori felt disappointed when the dragon neared the end of the valley and began to descend. She wondered if Thranduil liked her enough to take her flying again. Probably not.

The process of landing was somewhat less fun than the process of taking off, as the dragon beat the air hard with his wings as he slowed to land with his hind legs touching the ground first. There was a sudden jolt as the dragon stopped beating his wings and his front legs touched down on the stone with a loud thud. Nori was a little worried that Dwalin would throw up, but he pulled through.

As securely as the Elven rope had held her harnessed to the dragon, it untied itself with one tug at the end of the rope. Nori coiled the rope up as she stood and casually tucked it away in the satchel she had slung over one shoulder as she looked around to see where they had landed.

They were in the middle of a broad plaza tucked between the city and the sheer, flat wall of the mountainside. The perimeter of the plaza was crowded with Dwarves, every single one of whom was kneeling.

"What is going on here?" Nori muttered as she took in the scene. Admittedly, the locals had all knelt when Thranduil transformed into a dragon back at camp, but a couple of dozen battered-looking soldiers kneeling hadn't struck her as being nearly as bizarre as what looked like the entire population of the city silently kneeling.

There was movement at the side of the plaza opposite the mountain. Flanked by Dwarves in guard uniforms, the scarred woman--Thegn Ingrith, now--strode purposefully toward them. Nori tensed warily, prepared for a last-minute betrayal, but the scarred woman dropped to one knee, hand on her heart and head bent respectfully.

"The King and his Dragon return to Dracadelf. We bid you welcome," Thegn Ingrith said in a voice that carried clearly across the plaza.

Thranduil's voice in dragon-form sounded like the mountain had just decided to start talking. Standing on the dragon's back, Nori felt like her teeth were about to be rattled out of her head from the deep notes. "Rise, Thegn Ingrith and people of Dracadelf. On behalf of the King who has returned, I thank you for giving us welcome and succor. The Returned King, his Heir, and his Royal Guardsman were injured in the battle to defend the valley. We require a place where they may rest and heal."

Ingrith stood and bowed deeply. "We are honored to provide aid and pray to the Valar that they will soon recover."

There was more diplomatic-speak after that, but Nori tuned it out. She'd heard the important parts.

Lowering the litters from the dragon's back took the coordinated efforts of easily a dozen Dwarves. Nori couldn't help because of her injury, so once she'd recovered from the pain of dismounting from the dragon with cracked ribs, she stood to one side and casually checked out the city.

The buildings looked like their Dracadelf equivalents, only above ground instead of inside an immense cavern. There was fire damage here and there, not nearly as bad as it would have been in one of the wooden cities of Men. One obvious difference from the underground city was that all of the slate roofs were sharply pitched to help snow slide off the roof during the winter. Professionally speaking, Nori preferred flat roofs. Pitched roofs tended to make breaking into the upper floors of a building from the roof a bit trickier.

Once all of the litters were cleared from the dragon's back, Thranduil transformed back to Elven form. Nori thought the whole crowd was going to kneel again, but they restrained themselves to deep bows.

Thegn Ingrith led the way as husky young Dwarves followed them carrying the litters. "I apologize that we have not had a chance to entirely refresh my grandmother's wing of the Palace, but I do hope that it will prove adequate to house the royal family and your guardsman."

"I am sure it will be most acceptable," Lady Dis said. "I take it that the Palace was not badly damaged in the battle?"

"The Palace was never designed to be a fortress, but it is still moderately defensible. We were able to keep the Orcs from penetrating the gates with minimal losses."

Ingrith, Dis, and Thranduil were walking abreast, which left Nori walking next to Kili. Things between them had been a little awkward ever since the discussion they'd had about Kili's crush on her. "I understand you ended up with a battle-mark," she said to break the silence. 

He lifted his right hand, which was heavily wrapped in bandages. "Lost the little and fourth finger."

Nori winced. "Sword?"

"Yeah. Lucky blow. For the Orc, I mean," he said, trying to smile. "But I can still draw a bow, that's the important part."

"Makes you look tough. You're a blooded warrior now and wounded in battle. You need a battle-name."

"Yeah?" A broad, genuine smile spread across his face. "Fili says I should call myself Kili Half-Hand. But I don't know if I like that too much."

"Kili Eight-Fingers?" Nori suggested. They both made faces. "No, Half-Hand is much better." Kili laughed and Nori joined in. It was a relief to feel like things could become comfortable between them again.

The wing that Thegn Ingrith brought them to was sumptuous, if a little musty-smelling. The velvet-covered chairs and couches were a bit faded but looked in remarkably good shape for having been disused for so long. According to Ingrith, the wing hadn't been in use for over fifty years since her grandmother, who had been the Thegn before her father, had passed away.

The former Thegn's bedroom was bigger than some houses Nori had lived in. Servants brought in two beds from other bedrooms so that Thorin, Fili, and Dwalin could all be housed in the same room while they were healing.

Soon enough they had everything arranged to Lady Dis's satisfaction and the guards and servants filed out of the room, most of them staring at Thranduil as they left. The Elf had stationed himself near a window and was standing completely motionless, staring into space. Nori knew enough now to recognize that he was getting lost in memory again. He looked exhausted and grey, too thin even for an Elf.

Fili and Dwalin were both awake, though Dwalin seemed to be on the verge of dozing off now that the excitement was over. Nori sat on the edge of his bed, stroking a hand over his forehead. He captured her hand with his good one and held it to his mouth so that he could kiss her palm. She smiled down at him, caressing his bearded cheek with her free hand.

Dis had called Kili over to help her with something involving Thorin. Fili and Ingrith must have thought that Nori and Dwalin were either too far away or too distracted to hear them speaking as the scarred woman stopped by Fili's bedside on her way out.

"Aren't you going to tell me how relieved you are to see that I survived the battle?" Fili asked in a quiet, mocking voice.

"I suppose," Ingrith said dismissively. "Though with that injured leg, I don't know how much use you'll be to me."

"It's my leg that's broken, not my tongue," Fili said. Nori met Dwalin's eyes, both of them frowning at the strange undertone to their argument. Then Fili added, "Or my cock," and Nori's eyes widened as she realized that the strange undertone was that they were _flirting_ with each other.

Dwalin, the bastard, was silently laughing since he was mostly blocked from their view by Nori's body. Since she was sitting in profile to Fili and Ingrith, Nori had to bite her lip viciously to keep from laughing and giving the fact that they were eavesdropping away.

In a husky voice, Ingrith said, "You seem awfully confident of your welcome. Keep in mind that I still find you completely annoying."

"Annoying? Is that what you look like when you're annoyed?" Fili asked. "Because to me it looked like you were coming so hard that you couldn't say anything but my name and the word yes. But perhaps I was mistaken."

Ingrith made an inarticulate sound of rage and stalked out of the room. Nori had to hold her breath to keep from laughing out loud.

Finished with whatever they had been doing, Dis and Kili walked to Fili's bedside. Dis made a worried noise as she felt Fili's forehead. "Your face is flushed. You may be developing a fever. I'll have the servants bring cold compresses."

That was it. Nori lost it, clutching her ribs as she laughed because _fuck_ did it hurt to laugh, and that started Dwalin laughing too. Dis and Kili stared at them.

"Sorry, sort of... giddy from relief," Nori said between chuckles, starting to calm down. "Don't mind us."

Fili was glaring at both of them behind his mother's back. Nori met his eyes and started laughing again.

***

Late that night, after Lady Dis, Kili, and Nori had finally left to get some rest, Thranduil sat vigil beside Thorin's unconscious body.

"My love, if I could give you my Heart again, I would," he whispered.

Terrifyingly pale and motionless except for the slow rise and fall of his chest, Thorin did not respond. There was a whistling, congested sound to his breathing. Thranduil had seen the fear growing in Lady Dis's eyes whenever she checked on her brother. It was probably a blessing that she could not feel Thorin's life energy fading away as Thranduil did.

He could not give Thorin his Dragon's Heart again, but there was one other thing he could do. One more last resort. He prayed to the Valar that it would be enough.

Thranduil placed his hands over Thorin's chest, feeling the places where his soul had torn loose from his body, feeling the leakage of energy from those places. Slowly, Thranduil started to use his own energy, pulling from his paper-thin reserves to patch over those rips until Thorin's body could heal them naturally.

It was painful, like digging into and pulling out some soft secret part of himself over and over, but it worked. The damaged parts of Thranduil's soul would scar over in time. Lord Elrond would no doubt disapprove stringently if he knew what Thranduil had done, but the Herald wasn't here now, was he?

When he was finished, Thorin lay still and silent, but it was the stillness of deep, healing sleep and his breathing was easy, without the terrible, wet sound it had developed earlier that day. 

Tracing the energy that he had used to patch Thorin's soul, Thranduil found that a thin silvery thread of energy linked them together. If he concentrated, he could feel Thorin's soul. It helped to calm the storm raging inside his head. Thranduil felt clearer now, more like himself than he had in a very long time. 

Thranduil traced a finger along the line of energy, frowning. He wasn't sure that Thorin would be pleased to find them so linked. There was nothing to be done about it now, though. What was done was done, for better or worse. 

Thorin would live, and that was all that mattered.


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all stories must come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quenya: fëa - soul or spirit
> 
> Khuzdul: mizimith - young jewel, ghivashel - treasure of treasures, namadith - younger sister, namadel - sister of all sisters, nadadith - younger brother

Thorin felt like he had been drifting at the edge of waking for a long time before he woke up. His body felt stiff, as if he had been asleep for days. He opened his eyes, blinking to see a dark-patterned canopy over his head.

One of his hands felt warmer than the other. Thorin turned his head, trying to focus. It took him a moment to realize that it was Thranduil asleep with his head resting on the edge of the bed. His hand was still gripping Thorin's, even as fast asleep as he appeared to be.

Thorin was lying on a four-poster canopied bed. From what he could see from his position, he seemed to be in a huge, luxuriously appointed bedroom. He did not know how he had gotten there, however. His memories seemed somewhat fuzzy and disconnected. He concentrated and the details slowly started to come back to him. The battle, fighting Orcs and Wargs, and then... the Trolls.

Thorin sat up in bed. "Fili!" His voice was a bare whisper and sitting up made his head spin. Thorin pressed his hands to his forehead, trying to will away the headache.

"Thorin!" he heard Dis exclaim. He turned his head, squinting against the headache, and saw his sister hurrying to him from the other side of the room. There were a few more beds over on that side but he couldn't see who was lying in them.

"Thorin, you shouldn't be sitting up, there may be injuries inside your chest." Dis tried to ease him down to lying on his back but Thorin resisted.

"Fili," he tried saying again. His voice was cracked and almost soundless.

Dis clicked her tongue disapprovingly and held a cup of water to his lips for him to sip from. "Fili has a broken leg but he'll recover. You, on the other hand, are about two steps from the doors of the Halls of Waiting, so would you _please_ lie down?"

Thorin tapped his finger on Dis's wrist to get her attention and then signed in Iglishmiek, _I feel fine. A few aches and pains. But not badly injured._

"Not badly injured?" Dis put the cup down on a table by the bed and said sternly, "Hold still. I need to check your injuries."

During all of this, Thranduil had not stirred an inch. Thorin looked over at him, worried, but as soon as he thought to check on Thranduil he realized that somehow he knew that the Elf was fine, just deeply asleep. How he knew this, he did not know.

Dis unwrapped one of his shoulders and exclaimed wordlessly at what she found.

"What?" he asked, trying to look at his own shoulder. It looked normal to him.

She shook her head silently and started unwrapping more bandages from around his chest. All the while her lips pressed more and more tightly together. Finally, when it seemed that a mile of bandages had been unwrapped from his body, she stood staring at him in shock. 

"What?" Thorin repeated insistently.

"Your wounds... they're not entirely healed, but it looks like you were injured two weeks ago, not two days ago." Looking him squarely in the eyes, she said, "Thorin, you were dying. Not six hours ago, I thought that you wouldn't survive your injuries for more than a few days. You were developing the drowning cough."

Thorin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "My lungs feel fine."

"This can't be. Unless..." Dis looked at Thranduil where he slept with his head resting awkwardly on the edge of the bed. "Unless Gwethael did it? But he claimed to not be much of a healer."

Gwethael, the false name that Thranduil had used when he first met Hrathi. Thorin was going to have to remember to use it when he was speaking to others.

"Whatever he did, it seems to have knocked him unconscious." Dis put her hand on Thranduil's wrist. "His pulse seems normal. Well, normal for an Elf. But he isn't waking."

"He's only asleep." At Dis's raised eyebrow, Thorin said, "I can feel it somehow." 

"How?"

If Thorin concentrated, it was as if he could feel something invisibly connecting him to the Elf. "I think that whatever he did, it was something that created a magical link between the healer and the person they heal."

She looked disapproving. "Elven magic. I don't trust it." Thorin could feel Thranduil waking as she spoke. 

The Elf opened his eyes and sat up. He looked utterly awake and collected for having been fast asleep a few moments ago. "Whatever else I have done in my life, Lady Dis, you may rest assured that I would end my own existence before I willingly harmed Hrath--Thorin again."

"Again?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"It doesn't matter," Thorin interrupted before Thranduil could reply. "It was another life. What is long dead and gone should remain forgotten." He met her eyes, his expression asking her to let it go. 

She looked torn but after a few moments she nodded. "Gwethael, could you help me rebandage Thorin? Some of these cuts are still going to require protection while they heal. Actually, first I need to fetch my physicker case. Some of the cuts we stitched are healed enough that we need to remove the stitches before the skin heals right over them."

Left alone for the moment, Thorin eyed Thranduil curiously. "May I ask what you did?"

"I healed you," the Elf said. His eyes were cool and remote, but Thorin was sensing a confusing mix of intense emotions through the link.

"And how exactly did you heal me?"

"I patched your energy and bolstered it up so that your body could heal."

"Patched. Using what?"

Thranduil's lips thinned with irritation. "My energy."

"Your energy." Thorin had a feeling, based on the feeling of dread trickling through the link, that he would not be best pleased if he knew enough about magic to understand exactly what the Elf had done. "Did that harm you?"

"Nothing that won't heal," Thranduil said dismissively. He stood, looking relieved as Dis came back over carrying a beautifully carved wooden case inlaid with silver. 

Thorin was surprised that Thranduil assisted Dis with removing the stitches and replacing his bandages. Thranduil must have felt his curiosity through the link, because he raised an eyebrow at Thorin and said cooly, "Do not be so surprised. The healing arts were never my main focus, but there is a certain extent of overlap between studying magic and the energy of the fëa."

Thorin hadn't ever discussed with Thranduil that he had studied magic, and yet as soon as he heard that it clicked into place as if it was something he had always known. A vivid mental image of Thranduil sitting hunched at a desk piled with old books and scrolls appeared in his mind, the Elf snapping at him impatiently as Hrathi attempted to distract him from his studies.

"Thorin?" Dis asked. He blinked and looked up at her. "What just happened? You were completely absent for a few minutes."

"Just a memory," he said, trying to smile reassuringly.

Once Dis had finished with the bandages and had left with a final admonishment to be careful of his healing wounds, Thorin and Thranduil were left in somewhat awkward silence. Thorin shifted restlessly against the mound of pillows behind his back. He would rather sit up on his own power, but even he had to admit that he was growing weary much more quickly than normal.

"I've started remembering more," Thorin said. 

"Yes?" Thranduil asked neutrally while sitting down with great dignity next to the bed on a chair which was much too short for him.

"More of Hrathi's memories are coming back to me. Also, strangely enough, I appear to have developed a mental link to you. Any idea why?"

The Elf shrugged elegantly. "That will hopefully be only a temporary side effect caused by the method with which I healed you."

"You're hiding something about that."

"The Dwarves of this valley have declared us the King and his Dragon returned," Thranduil said without acknowledging Thorin's statement. "They appear to hold us in almost religious reverence. Are you going to be willing to play along?"

"I will do whatever I need to do to protect the people I care about. You should know that."

Thranduil paused for a moment and then said carefully, "That was not always the case."

"Point taken." Thorin sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "All I can tell you is that I am not Hrathi."

"I know."

"And I am sorry for what Hrathi did to you. I cannot change the past."

"No man can."

Thorin paused, looking at Thranduil. Really looking at him, seeing the guarded blue eyes, the blond hair flowing limp and unbraided down to his hips, the wary tilt to his head, his too-sharp cheekbones. 

Gathering his thoughts, Thorin said, "I cannot imagine what you have been through. And I am not the man you remember. It is more than passing strange to have Hrathi's memories of a lifetime together when I have barely met you."

"It is more than passing strange to see Hrathi when I look at you and yet know that you are not he."

Thorin inclined his head in agreement. "I cannot make any promises. But if you are willing, I would like to try again, as we are now."

"A new beginning." Thranduil paused. Through the link, Thorin could feel a complex mixture of emotions, strongest of which were hope and fear. "I would like that."

Thorin held his hand out, waiting patiently as Thranduil paused and then lightly laid his hand in his. Thorin clasped both of his hands around Thranduil's hand, surprised as always at how delicate the Elf's hand felt in his thicker, rougher hands. Despite the height difference, he never really felt small next to Thranduil. He knew, however, that the Elf's delicate, birdlike bones belied a surprising strength.

"Then we will not rebuild the past, but see what we can forge together anew."

"To a new beginning," Thranduil said. There was a hint of a smile in his eyes.

"A new beginning," Thorin echoed. Through the link and inside his own heart, he could feel a fragile hope flickering to life.

***

Nori really wasn't sure what to expect when Dori told her to come to her and Grimr's room almost a week after the battle for a "family discussion."

"What do you think, should I bring along a flask or a grappling hook?" she asked Dwalin.

His entire right arm and shoulder had been immobilized in a cage-like construction meant to hold his bones in place as he healed. Dwalin had been alternating between fuzzy-headed and snappish for the past several days depending on how recently Mistress Eurwen had given him another dose of medicine to dull his pain. Right then he was in a lucid but not yet grumpy period. "What's the grappling hook for?"

"In case I need to make a quick escape through a window."

"I doubt it will be anything that bad. It's just your sisters."

"It's never _just_ anything with Dori. Right, I'll bring a flask _and_ a grappling hook. Just in case." Nori sighed and kissed him softly. "I'll see you in a little while. If I survive," she added in a dire tone. Dwalin snorted and she left him with a grin.

The Company had been housed in a wing of the palace that had a pretty courtyard with a small fountain in the center. The stonework was carved with angular designs that incorporated stylized flowers and leaves along with more traditional Dwarven motifs. Apparently this was where the Company had been imprisoned before the battle, but if so it was the nicest prison she had ever seen (and Nori considered herself a bit of an expert on jails.)

She located Grimr and Dori's room and found that they were waiting for her along with Ori. They had pulled in a bench that matched the ones in the courtyard. Grimr and Dori sat next to each other on the bed and Nori sat down on the bench next to Ori. 

"How are you healing?" Nori asked Ori.

Her bandage was smaller today, only covering her forehead and leaving her eye uncovered. "I'm actually healing much better than Mistress Eurwen and Lady Dis had feared. The scarring shouldn't be too bad, and I can still see perfectly out of that eye. I got lucky."

"Oh, _mizimith_ , I'm so glad." Nori hugged her.

"Ori, Nori, we asked you here to tell you something very important." Dori was gripping Grimr's hand hard.

"What, are you pregnant?" Nori asked as a joke. Neither of them laughed. Nori looked back and forth between them. "You are! Mahal's great furry--!"

"Grimr and I got married," Dori interrupted. Her eyes widened in dismay and she made the sign of Mahal's Hammer, which was as close as Dori would come to swearing in front of Ori. "That didn't come out the way I meant it to."

"Did you have an axe-handle wedding?" Nori asked. "But I didn't get to threaten Grimr with an axe at all! I feel so cheated."

"Nori, come on," Grimr said. "You can take the piss out of me later, all right?"

"I'll hold you to that, old man." Nori closed her mouth and made the Iglishmiek sign for _silence_ , indicating that she wasn't going to interrupt again.

Dori sighed loudly. "No, we did not have an axe-handle wedding. We exchanged the archaic Oath of Marriage. It was all perfectly respectable and aboveboard."

The archaic Oath of Marriage had fallen out of favor many centuries before because it specifically mentioned children as part of the marriage contract. Since many Dwarven pairings would never result in children for one reason or another, it was ruled to be an essentially flawed contract. An entire generation of Dwarven law scribes had worked out the wording for the modern Oath of Marriage. The only reason Nori knew this was that Ori had found the whole thing _fascinating_ and had told her all about it.

Ori had been very still and quiet through all this. Now she piped up, her eyes huge with excitement, "I'm going to be an aunt?"

Dori smiled at her. "Yes, you are. And with me at my age! How that is even possible, I don't know."

"You're not that old," Nori pointed out. "Mother was four years older than you are now when she had Ori."

"That's not really making me feel any better about my age," Dori said with a gritted-teeth smile.

"Um, I have an announcement too," Ori said. She paused, looking nervous. "Just a moment. Bell should be in here for this," she said, and ducked quickly out of the room. 

If Ori was pregnant too, Nori was going to have some very pointed questions for Bell.

The three of them were left sitting there in awkward silence. "So!" Nori said cheerfully. "Half-wizard baby, huh. Think it'll have wizard powers?"

Grimr gave her a look that said _please stop talking_. Dori silently glared at her. This family discussion was going fantastically well. Maybe it was time to break out the flask. Or the grappling hook.

Ori returned holding hands with Bell and stood with her in the middle of the room. "Everyone, Bell and I want you to know that we are a couple. We're in love and we're going to spend the rest of our lives together." She looked anxiously at Bell and received a reassuring smile.

"Ori, honey, you're too young for anything like that," Dori said. "You're only fifty. Give it another ten or fifteen years before you start thinking about anything serious."

"Bell doesn't have that long!" Ori shouted. She looked a little shocked at her own outburst. Bell looked down, biting her lip. Gathering herself together, Ori continued, "Hobbits only live ninety to one hundred years. I'm not wasting a second that we have together."

"Ninety to…" Dori shook her head, frowning worriedly. "You're only fifty, Ori." Nori understood what she meant, and to a certain extent she had to admit she agreed. Ori was only fifty--she easily had two hundred years left. If she was involved with someone who would only live to one hundred, there were a lot of years of heartbreak in her future.

"I don't care." Ori raised her chin stubbornly even though her eyes were wet with tears. "I don't need your permission, either. I'll take the Oath of the Wanderer if I have to." 

Dori gasped, clutching at her chest in shock. "You wouldn't."

"Hold on, hold on," Nori said, standing up and stepping in between Dori and Ori. "Let's just calm down and take a few minutes. Dori, could I talk to you outside for a second?"

Nori shut the door quietly behind them. Dori followed unresisting as Nori towed her along with one arm to a distance where hopefully Ori and Bell wouldn't be able to hear them talk.

"She would renounce her family and become a wanderer," Dori moaned. "Where did I go wrong?" 

"Come here," Nori said, holding her arms open. Dori hesitated and then stepped into the hug. 

"You didn't do anything wrong," Nori said quietly into Dori's ear. "Ori is the strong, independent young woman that you raised her to be. But now you have to accept that she's growing up and she's going to make decisions you don't always agree with."

"But she's going to get hurt."

"I know. But that's part of living. Sometimes you get hurt."

Dori heaved a sigh, squeezing Nori tightly enough that she squeaked a little and then stepping back, wiping at her eyes. "When did you get to be wise, _namadith_?"

It was definitely time to lighten the atmosphere, before Nori got a reputation for being wise or thoughtful or something. She dug into the satchel she had slung over her shoulder and displayed what she was carrying with her. "Me, wise? This is what I packed for the family discussion."

"You bought a flask and a... what is that, a grappling hook?" Dori asked. Nori nodded. "Oh, for Mahal's sake. I take it back. You're not wise at all." 

Nori smirked. 

Back in the room, Dori hugged Ori, telling her, "I'm sorry, _namadith_. You're right, you are old enough to make your own decisions. I won't stand in your way."

Nori waited until they were done hugging, Ori stepping away bashfully and wiping tears from her eyes. Clearing her throat, Nori said, "So, I guess that I also have something to announce. Dwalin and I are getting married. I mean, we will be as soon as he can stand up on his own." Nori shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. The whole getting married thing still threw her, much though she loved Dwalin. It was a lot of commitment.

"What? You haven't even--he hasn't even _courted_ you properly!" Dori exclaimed, puffing up with outraged propriety.

"Technically, we got engaged the first night we met," Nori pointed out. "If you look at it that way, we've been courting for months."

" _Technically_ , you were using a false name at the time and lying about your identity." Dori crossed her arms, glaring at her.

"Well, if you're going to get that technical about it, we saved each other's lives in battle and that negates the need for any formal courting." Nori smirked triumphantly.

"Oh! I read about that in the Books of Law! Blooded shieldmates can speak their Oaths of Marriage right on the battlefield." Ori looked worried as she added, "Only I never had a chance to finish the scarves I was going to make for you! I guess they're going to have to be a belated wedding gift."

"They will be greatly appreciated and proudly worn, whenever they are finished." Nori grinned at her younger sister.

Dori was fuming, Nori could tell. She raised an eyebrow at her older sister, daring her to say anything about not courting properly when the reason Dori had gotten away with skipping the courting period was that she was pregnant.

"Well, I suppose I should be glad you didn't get married on the battlefield with Orc blood all over you," Dori sniffed. "Very well, if there's to be no proper courting period then there will at least be a proper wedding celebration. Ori and Bell, when you get married--which will not be for a good long while, Ori is still much too young--you are going to court _properly_. Twelve months of courting, not a day less."

"You mean that you give us your blessing? Oh, _namadel_!" Ori said, bursting into tears as she threw her arms around Dori's neck. Then Dori opened her arms and had Bell join them in the hug. 

Nori leaned against the bed next to Grimr. "Sickening, don't you think?" she asked quietly

Grimr chuckled, giving her a sidelong glance. "Yes, Nori, you're completely callous and don't care about anything at all, I know."

"Shut it. You'll have everyone thinking I've gone soft," Nori said, elbowing him. "So, you knocked my sister up, huh?"

He winced. "Please don't phrase it that way to Dori."

"Seriously, though, you're a wizard. How did you manage to get someone pregnant accidentally?"

"I honestly didn't even realize that it was a possibility." Grimr smiled one of the softest smiles she'd ever seen from him at Dori. Dori glanced up from her conversation with Ori and Bell and smiled back at him just as softly.

Nori dropped her voice even further. "Grimr, I know this is the height of hypocrisy coming from me, but don't run off on her, all right? Dori and I butt heads a lot, but I'll be the first to admit she's gotten a raw deal out of life. She deserves some happiness."

Grimr dropped his usual air of silent amusement. His eyes were deadly serious as he said, "Nori, I swear to you that I will not leave your sister's side for anything less than Sauron himself returning."

"Sauron returning? What, that's a joke, right?" Nori stared at Grimr as he shook his head solemnly. "So all that wargshit you said about protecting Middle Earth..."

"Not wargshit at all. I was sent here with a purpose, and that is to protect against the forces of the Enemy."

"Sent here? From where?"

"I can't tell you, Nori. I wish that I could, but it's not allowed."

"All right. But one of these days you are going to tell me, old man, whether it's allowed or not." She leaned her shoulder against his.

"Oh, doubtlessly so, my jewel." Grimr smiled and leaned into her companionably. "So, you and Dwalin are getting married?"

Nori sighed, trying to hide her smile. "Yeah, I guess so." 

Grimr shook his head, smiling. "You love him. And he adores you just as much."

"It's just so horribly respectable of me."

"Well, my dear, think of it as the ultimate grift. Convincing the world that you've turned respectable."

Nori knocked foreheads together with him gently. "Ridiculous old man."

"Dreadful brat," he said with utter fondness. They pressed foreheads together for a few more moments. 

That was all that was said out loud, but they knew the things that went unsaid between them never really needed to be spoken.

***

A week and a day after the battle, Tauriel sat reading on a bench near the fountain in the little courtyard. She supposed that some might be surprised that she'd be happy to stay in that wing of the Palace after eight months of detainment there, but it really was a pretty little courtyard, particularly now that the bars had been removed from the doors and windows of the wing. She looked up to see Legolas crossing the courtyard to her and made room for him to sit next to her on the bench.

"My heart lightens to see your face again, little sister," he said in Sindarin. 

Tauriel smiled at him. "You have not lost any of your way with words, brother," she replied in the same language. Legolas seemed out of sorts, his usual serene expression marred with the hint of a frown. "What troubles you?"

"The Prince Consort. He calls himself Gwethael, and yet I grow ever more certain that he is in fact my mother's lost twin, Thranduil."

"Do you truly think so?" Tauriel thought so as well, but she had the feeling that Legolas wanted to talk through his reasoning.

"He looks like Mother's painting of Thranduil. He has the same eyes as her. He speaks with the same accent as my mother. What I have learned of the history of this place indicates that he is old enough to be my uncle. All of the evidence points to it."

"Yet he calls himself by a different name."

"A name meaning lake of shadows, and my mother's name means lake of roses. That cannot be a coincidence."

"I do not believe it is either. And yet I must caution you that he does call himself by a false name, and he must have a reason for that. He clearly desires to remain unknown. Will you violate his wishes?"

Legolas stood and paced impatiently in front of the bench. "No," he said at last, sounding torn. "If it is his wish to remain anonymous then I must respect that. And yet I must speak to him. You have heard Mother talk about him. She misses him so much."

"I know, dear heart." Tauriel stood and laid a comforting hand on his arm. "I would not be here if I did not also wish to see your mother's twin returned to her."

"Though if he is Uncle Thranduil... he is in love with a Dwarf. That will be a strange story to tell to my mother." Legolas wrinkled his nose.

Tauriel punched him in the arm. "There is nothing wrong with Dwarves."

"Nothing except that they are short, loud, rude--"

"They cannot help being short. And they're not much shorter than I am; you Sindar are just unreasonably tall. As for loud and rude, well... admittedly, their ways take a little getting used to."

"I see, you like Dwarves so much because you've finally found a people who make you look somewhat tall." She snorted and tried to punch him in the kidneys. Legolas dodged, laughing at her. "I understand you have become quite fond of one in particular."

"Perhaps," she shrugged, looking away.

"Little firecracker," he said coaxingly. Tauriel smiled a little unwillingly at the nickname. "Tell me. Are you in love with a Dwarf?"

"No! I just... I like him. He's so funny and enthusiastic and sweet. Even if he did trick me into escaping with him." She sighed, thinking about Kili's grin and his bright eyes and his strong hands on her wrists. "I don't know. I think with time... it is not impossible for liking to turn to love."

Legolas shook his head, taking her hands in his. "Listen to me. Mortals may burn brightly, but they do not burn for long. Any Elf who falls in love with a mortal is doomed to an eternity of grief. I do not say this to hurt you," he said as Tauriel turned away from him, her hands balled into fists. "I say this because you are my sister, even if not in blood, and I want you to be happy."

Tauriel took a deep, slow breath in through her nose, calming her temper. "I know you are only trying to protect me. But to deny even the possibility of love because it will end in grief is to lock your heart in a tower with neither windows nor doors, so that it will be safe as it withers and dies. That is not living."

Legolas sighed, his shoulders dropping. With a pensive smile, he laid his hand along her cheek. "When did you get so wise, little sister?"

"If I were truly wise, I wouldn't be so utterly terrified of the thought of actually _talking_ to him about any of this," Tauriel said, watching Kili walk across the other side of the courtyard without noticing them.

"Never let it be said that I wouldn't do absolutely anything for you." Legolas waved his arm widely, calling across the courtyard, "Prince Kili! A word, if you would?"

Kili grinned at Tauriel when he joined them. Turning to Legolas, he asked, "How may I help you, Prince Legolas?"

"Oh, no, I was actually calling you over for Tauriel. I need to go talk to someone about something urgent on the other side of the Palace," Legolas said, smirking at Tauriel before walking away, leaving the two of them standing awkwardly together.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Kili asked, smiling at her. His wild hair was curling over his forehead most becomingly.

"I have to return to Mirkwood," she blurted out.

Kili's face fell. "Oh. I guess... I guess you have to, right?" He frowned. "Well, you'll at least stay for the ceremony, though, won't you? They're going to open up the main doors to Dracadelf. It's going to be a really big deal, you can't miss it."

"Legolas and I will definitely be staying for that. He is effectively the representative of the Woodland Realm to Dracadelf. But afterwards, we'll need to return to Mirkwood."

He nodded. "It's your home, after all." She thought he sounded disappointed.

"Yes. But I was wondering if, um." Tauriel coughed awkwardly, horrified to feel her eartips turning red.

"Yes?"

"If perhaps you would like to exchange correspondence. With me."

"You mean write letters?" His eyebrows were raised, but she couldn't quite read his expression.

"Yes. I mean, if you wanted. If you're not interested, of course--"

"I'd like that," he interrupted. 

"Yes?" Her voice was embarrassingly husky.

He nodded decisively. "Yes."

"All right, then. Good," she said, smiling at him stupidly.

His eyes squinched when he grinned. It was completely adorable. "Good," he echoed.

Tauriel felt like she could have stood there smiling at him forever.

***

Bell found Ori helping to roll bandages. There wasn't quite as urgent a need for them now, a week and a half after the battle, so she didn't feel too bad for motioning Ori over to her. Ori left the other bandage rollers with a quick word and came over to her, smiling curiously.

"There's someone I need to talk to and I think I'm going to need a little moral support," Bell said. "Will you come with me?"

"Of course." Ori gave her a quick kiss and they linked hands, walking together.

The Palace was full of activity as people worked on recovering and repairing the damage from the battle. Most of the Company were helping with the recovery in one way or another unless they were too injured. Bombur had taken the place of the Head Cook's first assistant, killed during the defense of the Palace. Bofur, Bifur, and Dori were helping repair and rebuild damaged buildings in Dracahafen. Lord Balin and King Thorin spent most of their time meeting with the Thegn and her Council. Bell really wasn't sure what Grimr spent his time doing. 

Kili spent most of his time running messages since it kept him busy without putting any strain on his injured hand. Fili was still an invalid, unable to put any weight on his injured leg. Dwalin was the worst injured and so Nori spent most of her time helping Lady Dis and Mistress Eurwen in the infirmary since she would have been there to check on Dwalin anyway. Ori and Bell had been pitching in where they could to help out with the wounded as well. 

Bell found the Steward looking harried as he gave orders to clean up a mess in the storerooms. She waited for him to finish dealing with the current crisis--it seemed there had been water damage from putting out a fire, which no one had noticed until water ruined some stored grain--before interrupting him. "Good morning, Steward." Ori hung back behind her shyly.

The Steward peered at her through his spectacles. "It's young Bell! By the Hammer, it is a relief to see you alive, child. I thought you'd been lost during the battle." His absent smile dimmed at that thought. "So many were," he sighed.

Bell hesitated and then took a deep breath, forcing herself to stand up straight and confess as she had intended. "I came here to apologize, sir. Do you remember the Dorwinion wine I brought you? That wasn't a gift from the Thegn--at least, not from Thegn Ingrith's father. We tricked you into drinking the wine and then I stole your keychain."

"You what, now? Don't be ridiculous, my keychain was never missing."

"That's because I went back to return your keys to you after we unlocked the door we needed. Do you remember how the keychain wasn't hooked onto your belt when you woke up?"

He appeared to search his memory. "You're right. It was lying on the table. I thought that was strange." The Steward shook his head at her. "But why would you steal my keys in the first place? And why admit to it now?"

"I was working with Dame Ingrith--Thegn Ingrith, now--to rescue my friends from imprisonment. As to why I'm admitting it now, I feel awfully guilty about it. We tricked you, and if things hadn't worked out as they did, you could have been in real trouble with the old Thegn."

The Steward frowned. "Well, I can't say that I'm best pleased with you, young Bell. That was a violation of trust, even if your intentions were good."

She felt her heart sink to her toes. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, staring at her feet.

He contemplated her for a few moments and then sighed. "Don't look so crushed, child. It all worked out in the end. And it speaks well for you that you admitted to having stolen the keys when there was no way I would have found out otherwise. I forgive you."

"Thank you, sir." Bell pushed back her hair as she raised her face to smile at him. His eyes widened.

"Pointed ears? Are you not a Dwarf?"

"No, sir, I'm a Hobbit."

"A Hobbit? Those are real?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "The King and his Dragon returned and a mythical being pretending to be a palace page. This has been a very strange month. Go on, then, young Bell, I've got an awful mess to clean up here. I shall see you around the Palace, I'm sure."

"Thank you, sir." She turned to go and then paused. "Oh, I have one question--the page who was training me, Helgi. I haven't seen him around the Palace. Did he... did he not make it?"

The Steward shook his head, taking his spectacles off to wipe the lenses. "I'm sorry. Helgi perished in the defense of the Palace. He died a brave death."

Bell's breath caught in her throat. "Thank you, sir. I'll go now." 

Ori put her arm around Bell's shoulders as they walked away, kissing her gently on her temple. "I'm sorry about your friend."

Bell wiped at her eyes. "I don't know if we were friends, exactly. I barely knew him. Helgi was one of the palace pages and the Steward assigned him to show me the ropes. He was just--he was so nice to me, even though he didn't have to be."

"Even if you didn't know him for long, he was still your friend."

"He was so worried when I told him that I had a sweetheart in the Guard as a cover-up for staying with you all night. I had told him I was only forty and he was really concerned that I was being taken advantage of. I had to do some fast talking to get out of that one. I told him I was small for my age and that I'd pretended to be younger than I really was so that they would take me on as a page. Fortunately, he believed me," Bell chuckled. Her smile faded quickly. "He was kind, and funny even when he didn't intend to be, and so young. It's not fair."

Ori pulled them to the side of the hallway, out of the way of traffic, and hugged her. "I'm so sorry, love. It's not fair, but it's war."

Bell's voice was muffled in her shoulder. "Then I don't like war at all. It's stupid and I hate it."

Ori tightened her arms, hugging her tightly. "I'm not supposed to think this, being a Dwarf and all, but I could not agree more. I think that when we write our history of the Battle of Dracadelf, we shouldn't just talk about the glorious heroics of the noble warriors. We should tell people about the children like Helgi who died before they got a chance to live."

"Yes," Bell breathed, pulling back to meet Ori's gaze. "And we'll tell them about the bravery of the common warriors like your sister in the murder holes, and the hard work of the people who put the Palace back together like the Steward. We won't let them be forgotten."

Ori's smile lit up her eyes. "I love you, Bellflower Baggins."

"And I love you, Ori daughter of Kori. I'm so glad you got lost in the Shire that day."

"Me too," Ori said, kissing her softly. "Me too."

***

Thranduil had taken to walking along the parapets of the Palace when he could not sleep, early in the morning before many of the inhabitants of the Palace were awake. In the week and a half since the battle, he had started to become more accustomed to large groups of people, but he still found himself longing for silence and space. 

His early morning walks along the parapets usually satisfied that need for solitude, but not today. Thranduil slowed to a halt as he found Legolas waiting for him along his usual route.

"Well met," Legolas said, bowing politely. "How does the day find you, Prince Consort?" 

It was somewhat jarring to hear Sindarin spoken after so many centuries of speaking only Westron. Hrathi was uninterested in learning it and of course Thranduil was not allowed to learn the Dwarven language, so the common tongue of Men, Westron, had become the language spoken in Dracadelf.

Thranduil felt two conflicting urges: to make his excuses and flee, or to greet the boy as a long-lost kinsman, his sister-son. The equal but opposite urges resulted in a frozen smile as he said stiffly in Sindarin, "Well met. It finds me well, and you?" He started walking again, hoping that the movement would impress upon Legolas that he did not have time for a lingering discussion.

"I am well, though I do find myself in a bit of a quandary." The boy matched pace with him. They walked in silence for a few minutes before Legolas said, "Prince Consort, I know that you have been avoiding me, and long have I pondered whether I should speak to you regardless of your wishes. I have discussed this with my foster sister and I have searched my heart, and I have come to the conclusion that I would be remiss if I did not at least speak to you before we depart."

Thranduil sighed soundlessly. It seemed his sister-son had inherited the infamous stubbornness of their line. "Very well. If you must speak, you must."

"My grandfather, Oropher, died at the Battle of Dagorlad."

Thranduil felt a bolt of pain through his soul at the reminder. "A tragedy for yourself and your family."

Legolas nodded solemnly. "This was long before my birth, but I feel the sorrow of that loss nevertheless. My mother has told me many stories of her kin who were lost during the War of the Last Alliance--my grandfather Oropher, my uncle Laerduin, and my mother's twin brother, my uncle Thranduil."

"Indeed, the war took a heavy toll on your family," he said with careful neutrality.

"Heaviest of all on my mother, for she has spent much of the past two millennia searching for her twin brother. She has never accepted that he was lost at Dagorlad."

"Is that so?" Thranduil was proud that he had managed to keep his tone icy-cold and disinterested while his heart was near to cracking in his chest. Merillael had searched for him? Surely it would have been kinder for them all if she had allowed him to remain lost. His deeds were best forgotten.

"Indeed. Both Tauriel and I chose to search for signs of my uncle's survival as our coming-of-age quests. The rumor I followed of a reclusive Elf living high in the peaks of the Misty Mountains turned out to be false. Tauriel followed the rumor of a lost city of Dwarves and Elves in the White Mountains, and as it happens, she found Dracahafen. Whether her quest was successful remains to be seen."

Leaning on one of the crenels, Thranduil shook his head with careful nonchalance. "Why spend so much effort searching for someone who is either dead or in hiding?"

"Because my mother believes that if her brother is in hiding, he has exiled himself without reason. There were a few survivors among the Silvan troops at the Battle of Dagorlad, you see. And while their reports of what happened after the dragon appeared were contradictory and confusing, they all agreed on one point: King Oropher died with an Orc spear through his chest only seconds before the dragon came."

Thranduil held onto the edge of the crenel with white-knuckled fingers, resisting the urge to change to dragon form and flee this conversation. He could not find it within himself to reply.

Legolas bowed. "I will not trouble you further, Prince Consort. But if you wish to speak for any reason at all, please do not hesitate to find me. May the sun always shine upon your path."

As soon as Legolas disappeared through a door into a stairway leading down from the rooftop, Thranduil allowed himself to sag from his careful stance. His head hanging between his shoulderblades, he took a deep unsteady breath.

He had not killed his father.

Yes, the accidental deaths of hundreds--Elves and Men killed when he lost control of the dragon at Dagorlad, Dwarves killed during his rampage into Dracadelf, _his own husband_ \--were on his hands, but he had not performed the worst sin in the eyes of the Valar. He was not a kinslayer. 

The way to Valinor might not be closed to him after all.

Someday, when Thorin passes from this life and goes on to the Halls of Waiting as is inevitable for all mortals, Thranduil will cross the western sea to the blessed realm, where he will await the day that he can be reunited with his love after the world ends and begins anew.

Thranduil slid to the ground with his back against the parapet, put his head in his hands, and wept with relief.

***

Dwalin hated the cage-like contraption they had used to keep his shoulder immobilized while the worst of his broken bones began to heal. As soon as he was no longer too doped up to form a complete sentence, he started campaigning to be let out of it.

It took until two weeks after the battle for Lady Dis and Mistress Eurwen to agree that he was well enough to be freed from the cage. With dire warnings about using the sling consistently and not lifting anything at all with his right arm ringing in his ears, Dwalin took his first few steps as a man freed from medical incarceration.

He started to feel exhausted after taking those few steps, but hell if he was going to admit that within earshot of the two healers. Nori kept darting worried looks at him, but he made it all the way to the courtyard of the wing where the Company had been staying on his own two feet.

Dwalin sank down on a bench with a relieved sigh. The courtyard had a fountain in the center and a large skylight in the ceiling allowing a shaft of bright sunlight down. Nori put a hand on his good shoulder, looking concerned. Dwalin tried to smile at her. "I'm all right. Just got tired out quickly."

She frowned. "I still think you should have kept your arm in the cage for another week so your bones could heal more."

"That's pretty funny, coming from the mistress of pushing yourself too hard when wounded," Dwalin teased. 

Nori made a face at him. "And so you should learn from my terrible example." 

She straddled his leg on his good side and leaned in to give him a long, slow kiss. Dwalin appreciated her arranging them so that he didn't have to strain to kiss her back and he could also wrap his good arm around her waist. He kissed her back unhurriedly, enjoying the luxury of being able to take their time.

"Good afternoon, Master Dwalin, have you seen my--oh, Mahal," Ori groaned, covering her eyes. "You two have a bedroom!"

Nori released his mouth with a final nibble to his bottom lip. "Well, then perhaps you should show us where it is before we scar your mind any further."

"Ugh, Nori! Anyway, that's why I came to find you. Dori has questions about how you want the furniture arranged."

"We're only staying here until they open up the underground city, I don't know what it matters. But fine, Dori will fret if I don't come give her someone whose opinion she can ask and then completely ignore." Turning back to Dwalin, she said with a soft kiss, "Why don't you wait here. I'll come find you when it's ready."

Dwalin squeezed her low around the waist, careful of her still-healing ribs, and then released her with a quick kiss. "I'll be here."

Lost in watching Nori's long braid swaying across her back as she walked away, Dwalin didn't even notice his brother approaching until Balin cleared his throat and said, "Afternoon, brother."

They exchanged a quick forehead tap, gentler than usual in deference to Dwalin's injuries. Then Balin settled on the bench beside him with a sigh.

"What have you been doing while I've been prisoner of Lady Dis and Mistress Eurwen?"

"Dealing with the Thegn and her Council, mostly." Balin pulled out his pipe and lit it. "Thegn Ingrith and about half of her Council are Traditionalists, fortunately. So they're thrilled to give Thorin kingship of Dracadelf, although the Council wants the Thegn to keep control of the surface city of Dracahafen. The Progressives want Thorin to share joint rule of the entire kingdom with the Thegn. The Radicals are arguing that Thorin being the reincarnation of Hrathi Stonefist does not give him the right to rule Dracadelf, and besides there's no way to prove he really is the Returned King. It's all very tedious."

Dwalin chuckled. "And you love every tedious minute of it."

"Well, I could do with a bit less time wasted in listening to the Radicals talk themselves in circles," Balin chuckled. "But yes, I'll admit that I am enjoying the return to political wheeling and dealing. It's been a while."

"What does Thorin want to do?"

Balin swept a glance over the courtyard to make sure they were still alone and leaned closer to him, speaking in an undertone. "Thorin is perfectly happy to leave the Thegn in charge of the surface city and the valley. He doesn't know a damn thing about farming or herding, and that's what the entire economy of Dracahafen is based on. But he's not willing to share rulership of the kingdom, because that's a recipe for disaster. 

"Ingrith has already unofficially agreed to remain in charge of Dracahafen as Thegn under Thorin's rule. It's just a matter of convincing the Progressives and Radicals, or figuring out how to make them shut up. But we'll get there," he said, leaning back in his seat and raising his voice to a normal speaking tone. "Though I must tell you that we won't be dividing up the entire treasury of Dracadelf fourteen ways! But don't worry, we'll all be very well compensated, both in gold and in positions within the kingdom. Your children will be very wealthy."

"About that," Dwalin said heavily. "Brother, I know you have dreams of dynasty-building, but you need to let that go. Nori can't have children, and I will marry no other."

Balin looked at him with a completely neutral gaze for a minute. Just as Dwalin was beginning to seriously worry that he would have to go against his brother's wishes in order to marry Nori--and he would, he absolutely would, but he wouldn't lie and say that he was all right with that--Balin cracked a smile. "That was a test, _nadadith_ , and you passed it."

Dwalin gaped at him. "What?"

"I knew based on Nori's age that she was almost certainly infertile. The younger a female child is when she contracts stone-fever, the lower the chances that she will ever be able to bear children. The refugee camps were ravaged by the stone-fever in the wandering years before we settled in Ered Luin, when Nori would have been at the most vulnerable age."

"Why? I mean, why the test?"

"I had to know that you truly loved her enough to go against the wishes of your family patriarch."

His fists clenching, Dwalin glared at him. "What gave you the right--"

"Nori is a thief. She will always be a thief at heart, even if she promises not to steal, and even if she follows through on that promise. The way she thinks is entirely alien to you. In fact, I probably think more like her than you do. It's not going to be an easy road you walk with her. I had to make sure you love her enough to stick it out through the difficult patches."

Dwalin took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. "I worried for weeks about what you said. I agonized over the decision that I would leave the family if you forbade me getting married to Nori."

"Good. Then you spent weeks truly thinking about the repercussions of sharing your life with Nori, instead of just wandering into it blindly, pulled along by your prick." Balin smiled widely at him, clapping him on the shoulder as he stood. "You have my blessing, Dwalin. And you too, Nori."

Dwalin craned his neck around, seeing that Nori was standing behind them. At a guess, he'd say that she had heard most or all of that. She looked angry, though her tone was perfectly polite as she said, "I thank you for that, Lord Balin."

"Just call me Balin, my dear. We are to be family-in-law, after all." Balin crossed the courtyard to her and, taking her hands in his, gently tapped his forehead against hers. "Welcome to the family. Now," he said, stepping back and clapping his hands together, "I'm going to speak to Thorin about witnessing your Oaths of Marriage."

"The King?" Nori sounded utterly shocked.

"Oh, he'll not just be the King to you now, lassie. He'll be your cousin-in-law." With a twinkling smile, Balin bustled away.

Something that Nori had said stuck with Dwalin. "I thought you said Thorin wasn't _your_ King."

"Well..." Nori said, chewing on her bottom lip. "Much though I hate to admit respect for authority of any kind, Thorin told us to save ourselves and went to face a dragon alone in Dracadelf. A dragon who turned out to be his angry ex, no less. I can't help but respect that. So, yeah, I guess Thorin is my King. I still like the Prince Consort better, though."

Dwalin laughed, shifting his shoulders thoughtlessly and then freezing with a punched-out hiss of pain.

"How's your shoulder? You're due for more pain medication, aren't you. Come on, you big lug," she said, positioning herself with her hands underneath his good elbow. "Let's get you to our new bedroom."

Dwalin took a dose of willow bark tea without complaint. He'd had the stuff so much in the last few weeks that the horrible taste didn't bother him anymore. Then he carefully laid down on the bed, Nori helping to position him in a way that didn't hurt his arm and shoulder.

After all that was taken care of, Nori sat down on the bed next to him, saying, "So. The King is going to witness our Oaths."

"If Balin talks him into it, that is. I wouldn't take bets against him, though."

"Huh. Well, the Prince Consort seems to like me. Maybe after we get married I can be their pet thief."

There was an edge to her words. "You're angry about what Balin said."

She sighed, flicking a small knife out of a hidden sheath on her belt and flipping it aimlessly in one hand. "I can't say I'm thrilled. But it's the truth. Even if I swore to never steal again--which I haven't, by the way--I will always be a thief. I look at the Palace here and I see all the holes in their security, all of the gaps where a clever thief could sneak in and out with none the wiser. I look at the defenses of this valley--which are very nice, I'll give you that--and I see exactly where you could sneak a small group of thieves or assassins in. I see the world out of a thief's eyes. I always will."

"And maybe that's a good thing. No, listen," he said as she started to shake her head. "Except for the few times I worked as a sell-sword, I've been a guardsman all my life. I can design guardsman rounds in my sleep, but I can't tell you what thieves see when they look at them. Your help would be invaluable."

"So you think I really should become the King's Thief," Nori said flatly. "Work against my own kind."

"Like you have loyalty to other thieves? Any other than Grimr, that is."

She smiled a little, inclining her head. "Point taken. I don't know, though. Even if Thorin agreed to it, I would feel like I was giving up who I am. What I do. What I'm very, very good at doing."

Dwalin frowned, turning it over in his head. It was hard for him to imagine thieving as being something important, something with a purpose, but he told himself to think of it as being something like working as a guardsman was to him. 

If he was told he couldn't be a guardsman anymore... which was actually a distinct possibility, considering how badly his arm and collarbone had been injured. Dwalin sighed. He would be willing to accept another position that made use of his knowledge and experience, but he would still want to do _something_ with his talents as a guardsman. Train new guardsmen, that sort of thing.

Nori couldn't exactly train new thieves, though.

"Spymaster?" he suggested.

"That is probably part of what I'd do as the King's Thief. If Thorin would even be interested in giving me the position. But that's not..."

"What you really enjoy. Right." The realization came to Dwalin like the dawn breaking over the horizon. "What you most enjoy doing is exploring lost cities and stealing from the dead."

She tilted her head to the side, her expression thoughtful. "True."

"So how's this for a deal. Assuming that Thorin agrees, I'll be the Captain of the Guards, you'll be the King's Thief, and when we need a break we can go explore ancient Dwarven cities and tombs and steal from the dead."

"You would go exploring tombs with me?" She sounded skeptical but cautiously hopeful.

Dwalin reached for Nori's hand with his good arm and raised her hand to his face, kissing her palm and rubbing his cheek against her hand, breathing in her familiar, beloved scent. "My _ghivashel_ , I would go anywhere, as long as it was with you."

She leaned forward to press her forehead against his. " _Ghivashel_. My grumpy badger. Wherever I went, I would want it to be with you."


	50. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the King and his Dragon return.

The day that the doors to Dracadelf are to be opened dawns cold but sunny, with little wisps of clouds chased by a brisk wind across the crisp blue sky. The plaza has been crowded since long before sunrise with Dwarves, and even a few Elves, waiting to see the return of the King and his Dragon. 

There are vendors moving through the crowd. The rich scent of sausage and bread fills the air along with the yeasty tang of ale. This may be a sacred moment foretold almost two millennia ago, but they are Dwarves, and it is always a good time for ale.

A murmur runs through the crowd with the news that the ones they are waiting for have left the Palace and are making their way to the plaza.

Children run through the crowd laughing and playing, unaware of the historical importance of this moment. They'll tell their own children and grandchildren in years to come how they stood and watched solemnly as the King and his Dragon crossed the square, followed by the Thegn of Dracahafen, the Crown Prince, and the Company of heroes who beat back an entire army of Orcs with only a handful of Marchwardens at their side.

The King and his Dragon touch their fingertips to the sheer rock wall at the back of the plaza, where the high peaks of the White Mountains tower over the valley. A line of silver spreads from their hands, running over the stone like molten mithril, until at last a door is revealed where only blank stone stood before. The doors swing open and the crowd cheers as the grand plaza inside the mountain is revealed to the sunlight for the first time in two thousand years.

Standing at the rear of the Company of heroes, a Dwarf woman with red-brown hair done up in three odd-looking peaks elbows an average-looking, older fellow with greying hair in the side. "Hey, what do you know. The treasure map was real after all."

They look at each other slyly and say in unison, "Honest thieves, indeed." They manage to keep straight faces for only a few seconds before starting to laugh.

A tall, balding Dwarf with his right arm in a sling rolls his eyes at them, though he can't help but smile at the woman. 

Cackling, she links arms with him on his uninjured side. "Let's go, my grumpy badger."

Together, they walk out of the bright sunlight of the windswept plaza and into legend.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS DONE!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented, gave kudos, and bookmarked. Your feedback kept me going through the long haul and I have met some fantastic people both here and on Tumblr as a result.
> 
> Shout-out to the two Nori/Dwalin writers who got me hooked on this pairing, greenkangaroo and Thorinsmut. Without your stories I would never have fallen for the Guardsman and the Thief as hard as I did.
> 
> Is Foxes and Geese done completely? Yes and no. The main story is finished. I'm sure I will be writing some short follow-up stories and if you have a request for something you'd like to see, comment here or on Tumblr at asiswolf.tumblr.com.
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who has read this story. 
> 
> \- Sister Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr at http://garafthel.tumblr.com.


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